#even though it was never canonically confirmed that he’s even dead

[bagelbun333]

The death penalty in Ace Attorney | The fandom’s biggest misconception

Capital punishment is something we all know is a real consequence when it comes to murder in Ace Attorney, but do all culprits who commit these crimes actually get the death penalty? That’s what I’m going to go through in depth within this post!

CW and TW: mentions of death, execution, murder, suicide etc.

Also major spoilers for basically all the mainline ace attorney games!

To start off with, what exactly warrants a death penalty in Japanifornia? Murder has been referred to as a capital crime that deserves a capital punishment, which in turn led people to believe that all murder convicts get the death sentence. However, there is a slight mistranslation within that statement and it should say “murder is a charge that risks the death penalty.” “Risk” is the keyword here. While yes, it is possible murder charges can warrant the death penalty, that doesn’t mean every culprit will get executed. Like, this isn’t Danganronpa 😭 What people don’t think about is the different kinds of murder charges there are, and the differences in sentencing this can create.

Murder charges can go from:

1st Degree Murder - Premeditated/long time planning

2nd Degree Murder - Not premeditated but the intent is there within the moment/deliberate killing

3rd Degree Murder - Deliberate reckless behaviour resulting in death

Aggravated Murder - Murder when an aggravating circumstance is proven (such as kidnapping or torture)

Voluntary Manslaughter - Intention to kill but is not guilty of murder due to provocation or mental incapacity

Involuntary Manslaughter - Killing without intention within the heat of the moment

Self Defence - Killing for defence of oneself

Consensual Homicide - Assisting a suicide

Attempted Murder - Planning and failing to kill

In Japan (the country this series is initially based on) these charges have different kinds of sentences depending on circumstances. So naturally, Japanifornia must have punishments very similar to this. These are the sentences for these crimes in Japan according to my research:

1st Degree - 5 years to life imprisonment

2nd Degree - 5 years to life imprisonment

3rd Degree - 3 to 5 years imprisonment

Aggravated Murder - Death penalty or life imprisonment

Voluntary Manslaughter - 1 to 15 years imprisonment

Involuntary Manslaughter - 1 to 15 years imprisonment

Consensual Homicide - 6 months to 7 years imprisonment

Self Defence - No imprisonment

Attempted Murder - 5 years to life imprisonment

Death penalties are usually passed in cases of multiple murders, although there are exceptions where individuals have committed a single murder that have been executed because it involved torture, extreme brutality or kidnapping with a demand for ransom. It is punishable by five years to life in prison, and with the death penalty if aggravating circumstances are proven. The only exception is for juvenile offenders since the minimum age for capital punishment in Japan is 18.

With this, we can work out what kinds of charges each of the ace attorney culprits will be given. (Mostly for the Phoenix Wright trilogy since I can’t recall much beyond aa4.)

(For clarification’s sake: a “/” is used when a crime could be one or the other or both, while the “,” is used to separate different crimes.)

Frank Sahwit: 2nd Degree Murder

Redd White: 1st Degree Murder

April May: 1st Degree Murder (Accomplice)

Dee Vasquez: Self Defence/Voluntary Manslaughter

Yanni Yogi: 1st Degree Murder

Manfred von Karma: 2nd Degree Murder, 1st Degree Murder (accomplice, planned out)

Joe Darke: Serial Murders (technically spree murder, guilty on five counts)

Damon Gant: 1st Degree Murder, 2nd Degree Murder (Serial Murders)

Lana Skye: 1st Degree Murder, 2nd Degree Murder (Unwilling Accomplice in both)

Richard Wellington: 2nd Degree Murder/Involuntary Manslaughter

Mimi Miney: 1st Degree Murder

Morgan Fey: 1st Degree Murder, Attempted Murder (Accomplice in both, planned out the crime)

Acro: Attempted Murder, Involuntary Manslaughter

Matt Engarde: 1st Degree Murder (Hired a hitman), Consensual Homicide (driven a woman to kill herself)

Dahlia Hawthorne: 1st Degree Murder, Consensual Homicide, 3 counts of Attempted Murder, and 2nd Degree Murder (Serial Murders)

Luke Atmey: 1st Degree Murder

Furio Tigre: Either 1st or 2nd Degree Murder

Godot: Voluntary Manslaughter/Self Defence (defending someone else)

Iris: Voluntary Manslaughter (accomplice)

Kristoph Gavin: 2 counts of 1st Degree Murder, Attempted Murder (Serial Murders)

Those who canonically got the death penalty:

- Joe Darke

- Dahlia Hawthorne

- Terry Fawles

- Simon Blackquill

Those who canonically got the death penalty but didn’t get executed:

- Terry Fawles (he died anyway rip)

- Simon Blackquill

Those who are most likely to get the death penalty but never canonically stated:

- Manfred von Karma (not explicitly stated but heavily implied)

- Damon Gant

- Matt Engarde

- Morgan Fey (vaguely implied)

- Kristoph Gavin

- The Phantom

Those who don’t get the death penalty:

- Frank Sahwit

- Redd White (he would if his blackmail victims got leaked)

- April May

- Dee Vasquez

- Yanni Yogi

- Lana Skye

- Richard Wellington (could be a chance that he would considering his victim was a police officer)

- Mimi Miney (unsure considering her accomplice is implied to be on death row)

- Acro

- Luke Atmey

- Furio Tigre

- Godot

- Iris

To recap, the death penalty in Japanifornia is reserved for the criminals with absolutely no hope for rehabilitation, and for those who have aggravated murder charges/serial murder charges. Even people like Redd White will not receive the death penalty.

After all, Redd White did plead guilty to Mia’s murder specifically because getting arrested for one murder would be safer than having his list of blackmail victims get leaked to the press. It would be strange to confess for his own safety if he was just going to get executed anyway.

In the later games it is shown that the law is changing, and the death penalty is even less involved when culprits are convicted of murder. (Not counting charges in Khura’in, that’s different.) So it is very possible that the punishments can change overtime for those who were already convicted; meaning there’s a chance that they can be given a lighter sentence later on. There’s even a culprit in aa5 who was planning a murder but ended up killing someone else accidentally, and they were released from prison mere months after the trial. If they can released for that then surely a lot of the other culprits deserve the same treatment.

Speaking of Khura’in, that is actually more of a parody of what the fandom thought Japanifornia’s death penalty worked like. Even then, after the ending aa6, it looks like that judicial system will change for the better too.

And that’s pretty much it! The reason I wanted to go through this topic is because the whole murder = death penalty ideology is taken way out of proportion, and has been treated as a fact for far too long when it’s actually not completely true. This is just what I’ve managed to research and you can feel free to believe it or not, but I really wanted to share a new perspective on this subject. I, for one, wanted to share some hope for people; especially because I know a lot of these culprits have a lot of fans, and they deserve to have a brighter perspective on these characters. I definitely want some of these characters to return and this research really helped me feel confident that some of them have the potential to make a comeback.

Plus with the HD release of, not only the Apollo trilogy, but the Edgeworth collection in the same year, it’s more than likely that aa7 will bring back old characters! The reason a lot of these old characters didn’t make a reappearance sooner is because Capcom stood by this “no spoiler” rule for the players who may have missed out on certain games in this series. But now that we have all the mainline games in the series getting a HD release on all modern platforms, this “no spoiler” rule will most likely not be necessary anymore!

No more of this “if they’re guilty they’re never coming back” bs, let’s be more hopeful! It’s actually less likely that all culprits would get executed than the majority not getting executed. Let’s bffr!

And even if they don’t come back in aa7, we now have a more clear understanding on this messy topic, and you can feel free to use my analysis as a way to explain ace attorney culprits being able to leave prison in fanfictions, roleplays, fanarts etc. Don’t let the fandom tell you what to do >:3

Unrelated but I think this has been my first analysis post I put on tumblr and it was very fun to delve into! I may make more if anyone is interested :3c

[frodolives]

1850s Tumblr Dashboard Simulator

👸🏻 girlbossladyjane Follow

It really makes me sick to see people giving money to penny weeklies when Franklin's expedition STILL has not been found 😭 There are good men out there trapped in unimaginable temperatures and literally all that's needed is a little more funding for another rescue mission yet all you guys seem to care about are your vulgar little stories...

🧔🏻‍♂️ queerqueg Follow

the franklin expedition is dead as hell

👸🏻 girlbossladyjane Follow

Disgraceful thing to say but I'd expect nothing more from a M*lville fan

10,558 notes

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 hartgrindisreal

Sorry for posting so much about Tom Gradgrind/James Harthouse from Hard Times lately. It turns out that I was getting arsenic poisoning from my wallpaper? Anyway I took a seaside stroll and I'm normal now. Check your walls y'all

#whyyy did i assume they were committing unlawful actions together like where did i even get that from lol #hard times isn't even that good by dickens standards tbh

659 notes

🎨 asherbrowndurand

Just painted this

2 notes

ss-arctic-girlie-deactivated18540927

RIP Napoleon... you may have been unable to conquer Alexander's Russia but you sure as hell conquered Alexander's bed

🖼️ preraphaelitebro Follow

HERITAGE POST

📝 shakespearesforehead Follow

How does this have less than 100k notes you could literally not avoid this post back in the 20s lol

82,170 notes

🌄 loyalromantic Follow

poets just aren't dying young in mysterious water-related incidents like they used to :/

#as useless and degenerative as i find 'the living poets' and i'm glad we're finally moving on from them #i have to agree with op in this respect

6,884 notes

🎀 thefopdiaries Follow

I finally got a daguerreotype of myself ^_^ Porcelain urn for scaling

📜 bartlebi-thescrivener

i think i hauve consumption

112 notes

🐋 whaler4life

They found oil in the ground??? WTF. THIS IS LITERALLY THE WORSTTTT. FUCK MY LIFE FOR REAL THIS TIME

11 notes

🌿 naturesnaturalist Follow

I swear this website has 0 reading comprehension skills. Darwin NEVER claimed we "evolved" from apes like if one of you guys actually bothered to open his new book you'll see all his arguments are backed up by evidence. He actually makes a lot of sense

#sure there's nuance like i don't fully agree with all of it #but his general theory of natural selection seems pretty sound imo

56 notes

🤵🏻‍♂️ byronicherotournament Follow

🙈 butchbronte Follow

Of course these are the finalists lmao this website is so predictable. Anyway vote Heathcliff if you dont i'm going to assume you're a phrenologist

📖 sapphichelenburns Follow

It's not problematic to acknowledge the fact that Heathcliff was a brute like he literally killed dogs in case you forgot. #rochestersweep

🙈 butchbronte Follow

I love the implication here that Rochester never did anything cruel either. He literally locked his wife in the attic and lied to Jane about it 😭 like that was a pretty significant thing that happened

📖 sapphichelenburns Follow

And? God forbid women do anything

#why'd you have to pit two bad bitches against each other #anyway i'm not attracted to men but still went with rochester #bc in terms of living quarters thornfield hall > wuthering heights easily

8,027 notes

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 hartgrindisreal

Not the Russian tsar dying immediately after hartgrind became canon

#i know dickens hasn't technically confirmed it yet but like. SOMETHING was strongly implied ok #see: my previous post #dickensposting

522 notes

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 hartgrindisreal

LORD HELP ME. THE BODY LANGUAGE. THE WAY THEY'RE LOOKING AT EACH OTHER. AHHHHHH

#this installment!!! im-- #dickensposting #i can't fucking cope #dickens wants to KILL us he wants us DEAD....

2,309 notes

⭐️ newamerican

Hi guys sorry I haven't been posting lately it's been so difficult getting to California 💀 I'm finally here now though just need to find a pickaxe and soon I'll be digging! :-) wish me luck lol

#gold #gold rush #gold rush grind #california #adventure

0 notes

[gladiatorcunt]

🪺 - # WINTERGREEN CANDY CANE !!

cw: canon typical mind games, baby trapping/pregnancy, manipulation, reader’s emotionally constipated, tashi’s injury, cunnilingus, cockwarming, tit fucking, established tashi & patrick (there’s no feelings between them but they stay together for reader in the beginning), lactation, not rlly smut focused despite the tags, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, ambiguous baby daddy (even though the ending can be read a certain way), one mention of patrick x art, afab reader, there’s a thought about you being injured but it’s not serious, small time skip (?) type thing and implied future pregnancies, purposefully vague/unreliable narrator vibes

patrick and art’s descriptions are heavily insp. by these posts

consider commissioning me or leaving me a tip if you enjoyed!

They never tell you that Tashi got injured on purpose. She’s too good to fall victim to what plagues so many athletes, but you don’t know that. You, her assumed rival and yet also the poster child of sportsmanship. Rivalry can bring out affection in people, it can highlight the need for someone who can understand you better than anyone else possibly could. You’ve never been anything but soft and sweet, but you can still summon the lightning streaking across the sky in your eyes when the game begins. There’s a glow around you that Tashi craves like a moth craves the shadow behind the light they fly into.

Tashi’s fall from her pedestal was painful and the hardest decision she’s ever made, but for the first time she made it for love. The set up was the easiest part, but now she has to actually make the serve. And she can’t do it alone, she’d be stupid to be blind to how her boyfriend and his best friend’s stares linger. What she and Patrick shared fizzled out a while ago, but if she lets him go, then that signs her up for a battle she’d rather avoid. Sometimes pleasure can be derived from depriving an animal of the chance to kill rather than setting it free and giving it an opportunity to go after you first.

Who knows, maybe someday you and her can share matching injuries.

Luckily, Patrick shares the same sentiment, quickly agreeing to the arrangement and plan when he visited prior to the injury. Art’s good at downplaying his toxicity, so Tashi wasn’t concerned about if he could play the part of a “worried friend”. You’ll bust into the office while she’s getting checked out to see Art there, and the infatuation you've been harboring for him will keep you in place. The queen on the chessboard who can’t really move however they please at all. Patrick will return in a “rush to see his girlfriend”, and you’ll be too intrinscingly intertwined in their web to cut yourself loose.

You weren’t the one she was playing against, but because of your “friendship” you’re there in the audience when it all goes down. The shock of something career ending happening to someone who had the most potential of anyone you’d ever seen is staggering.

You practically run to see if Tashi’s okay, and the disappointment that you might never play with her again is palpable. But she’ll be fine, you tell yourself, she has to be.

Art has already left by the time you get to the room she’s in, doing one of his parts of the plan and allowing Tashi to put everything into motion. He’s waiting nearby, running his hands through his hair as he imagines all the ways he can comfort you. Because you will need comforting later, and your future husband knows the best remedies for your incoming sadness.

You’re standing gobsmacked in front of her bandaged knee, a confirmation that this is really it. You shrug off your bag and let it slide down your arm to the cold floor. Your mouth opens but the words don’t come out. You struggle to know what to say as Tashi’s eyes meet yours.

“What am I supposed to do now, huh? My top competitors gone up and left me hanging.” You sigh, trying to keep the kicked puppy look out of your eyes.

She’s in pain and you’re making this about you. But if you and Tashi aren’t bound by Tennis, then what are you bound by. Your friendship doesn’t go beyond the court, so what do you even share now?

There’s no big declarations, no babbling where you word vomit about glad you are that she’s okay. Neither of you are those kinds of people. The energy in the air is dead, but the situation is too serious for awkward small talk. All you two can focus on is what’s ruined, but only one of you can also acknowledge what stands to be gained.

“Take a break, then.” She says plainly, a touch too proud to beg. “For me, I mean who else am I gonna let see me like this?”

That last is an attempt to lighten the mood, to use humor to point out how you’re truly the only person she’d let see her in tatters. Your eyes widen and you freeze, but then you take a seat next to the cot and take her hand. Your smile could destroy the sun, she thinks, and even if the earth was plunged into darkness you’d make it feel like there was nothing to be worried about at all.

“Okay, just for a little bit.” You chuckle and rub her shoulder delicately.

You don’t know what on earth possesses you to say it, but you realize that the absence of a challenge would drive you insane. There’s other reasons for it, ones you’re aware and ones you’re not. But you and Tashi have a way of saying just enough without ever needing to be raw and reveal what you really mean. If there’s a coherent meaning to be found.

“A little bit” ends up being forever, your pregnancies see to that.

Tashi makes Patrick and Art hinge a match solely on who’d get first crack at it; they play so savagely that you’d think they were stray dogs fighting over moldy scraps of food. She’s there when you get morning sickness and she sends the boys out with a list of what you’re currently craving at that moment. She’ll brush your hair and do your skincare for you, rubbing your belly while everyone’s asleep and telling you’re baby that she’d better be their favorite (after you of course).

Tashi takes pride in how she pleases your pussy when you’re too swollen to put in any of the work. She licks broad stripes up your soaked cunt, nipping at your clit and getting you to cream into her mouth in no time at all. She presses sweet little kisses up and down your folds, wishing you could see her love on your pussy properly. They’ve had competitions on who can make you squirt the fastest, and Tashi will never fail to mention that she’s never lost once.

Patrick gets really into cockwarming, getting you nice and settled in his lap. He has to take deep breaths so he doesn’t immediately start thrusting, he knows he has to think about the baby. But the pregnancy has made you impossibly tight, and your hormones make you go crazy for his sweat and natural musk. You’ll whine at him to hover over your head so you suck on his heavy balls. You nag about how he needs to take better care of himself, but you’ve grown to love swallowing his tangy load while you’re suffocating in his pubes.

When that happens depends on how long either of you can hold out, Patrick will tease you about how slutty you’ve been lately and squeeze your face with one hand. His cock will twitch inside of you, snug and strangled. He'll suck Art off till both of their lips are bleeding and you’ll motorboat Tashi’s tits to pass the time. You’ll start swiveling your hips somewhere along the way and his resolve will crumble like it never existed in the first place.

That’s for later though. He fastens the ugly neon cartoonish headphones over your belly and turns on the attached mic, doing storytime with the softest grin on his face.

Art on other hand likes fucking your leaking tits, he loves when drops of milk lube up the slide of his dick in the valley between them. He’ll thumb at your sensitive nipples and flick them, cooing at you when you moan and lap at his cockhead during the split second it reaches your mouths. He’ll look after your breasts outside of the bedroom. He’ll massage them and drain them for you if they’re feeling particularly sore, two of them will be latching on either tit while the third will be sucking on your tongue. His pecs bounce with every languid roll of his hips through the pocket his hands create, and he brings your hands up to them so you’ll grab on and leave scratches.

Art gives you more cum, his literal breeder balls are too big and full, and he’ll bet that he’ll give you more children. His thrusts have a certain punchy rhyme and rhythm to them while Patrick’s are sloppily enthusiastic and feral.

Art picks out supplies for the nursery with you, supporting your vision wholeheartedly and agreeing with every color and stuffed animal you choose. He and Patrick continue with their careers, and Tashi finds a way to coach them both, they need to support you and the new member of their slightly dysfunctional family. Tashi writes up the speech you give when you announce your early and extremely unexpected retirement, and she massages your feet when you collapse on the couch from the sheer emotional exhaustion. Art pecks each of your toes as she does so. Patrick plays tic tac toe against himself in the hollow of your throat.

And when the baby’s born and they can finally see who actually got you knocked up, Tashi says that maybe Patrick will get to be happy that he’s finally won something.

- faetreides 2024. do not repost, translate, or give my works to ai

[spacerockfloater]

Alicent and Criston have every right to be together.

I’ve read a lot of posts regarding their non-existent hypocrisy and I’d like to clear some things up.

First and foremost, stop using Alicent’s “Where is duty, where is sacrifice?” line against her or Nyra’s outrageous “Exhausting, wasn’t it?” speech because you think you’re eating when you’re, in fact, starving. Alicent has done her duty and sacrificed herself. It’s the only thing she’s been doing for the past 20 years. She gave the man she was forced to marry four children and she took care of him despite all the shit he put her through. She has lived all her life based on her principles and now her husband is gone. She mourned him, she buried him, it’s been more than 10 days since his death (confirmed that E1 S2 takes place 10 days after Lucerys’ death) and she is finally fucking free. She deserves a sliver of comfort. Alicent is the only one in this series that’s been faithful and dutiful to a T, yet look where that got her. If someone has the right to break the law a little bit, it’s definitely her.

That being said, I don’t know when it was decided that Alicent is a pious saint that can do no wrong, but I need to remind y’all that following a religion does not magically prevent you from sinning. Is she committing fornication? Obviously. However, you are all under this impression that this is hypocritical on her behalf because she berated Rhaenyra for it when they were younger, without considering that her anger was justified for a myriad of other reasons, such as (but not limited to): 1) the fact that Rhaenyra’s freedom to marry whomever she pleased was a privilege granted to her thanks to Alicent’s efforts, who supported her even if Rhaenyra hated her, yet her friend casually threw that away, 2) the fact that Rhaenyra lied to her by swearing on her morher’s grave and never even mentioned Criston, 3) the fact that Rhaenyra had the guts to call her “sister” while lying to her face, 4) the fact that her lies resulted in Otto getting fired since Rhaenyra misled Alicent so that she speaks to Viserys in favour of her friend and betraying her own father by siding against him (a decision she wouldn’t have made if she knew the truth), leaving her completely alone and friendless at court, even if he was right all along and finally 5) the fact that Rhaenyra is the most sought after bachelorette in the whole world and by having sex she undermines herself (Rhaenyra knows this well, hence why she denies these accusations) and literally endangers herself, because had she been married to any other man but Laenor and had this man found out his wife and future queen is not a virgin, imagine the fucking horrors she could have been subjected to. Like, I hate to break it to you, but a 40-year-old widow, who’s had four kids and has completed her duty to the point where she is actually no longer needed and could leave the palace to go live the rest of her life in peace somewhere else and no one would notice her absence (literally though, she has birthed heirs, her husband is dead, her son is a grown adult king, her job is done there), having sex, is not the same as an 18-year-old princess and future heir in her prime, whose purity is linked to her worth, getting caught drunk in a brothel, hooking up with her uncle and losing her virginity to her guard, all in one night. Viserys himself was outraged. There’s lows and then there’s lows, y’all.

By the way, the crazy assumptions that Alicent has been cheating on Viserys with Criston for a while now need to stop. When Olivia Cooke said that they had filmed a messy sex scene with Fabien Frankel in a recent interview, she never said this was for S1 of HOTD. I don’t know where y’all got that from, but even if it was true, that scene has been scrapped so it is not canon. And don’t make me laugh about Daeron, a dragon rider who canonically has Valyrian features, potentially having brown hair. You’re all so blinded by your hatred for Alicent that you want her to be a lying hypocrite in order to make yourselves feel better about Rhaenyra’s mishaps, that you don’t get that the whole point of her and Criston getting physical is that she is a tortured woman who is finally able to break free, not that she has been a hypocrite all along. You’re heavily misunderstanding her arc.

Finally, when it comes to my good man Criston, y’all have lost it completely. No, Alicent is not raping him, unless he tells her to stop and she closes the door behind her like Rhaenyra did that is. No, Criston did not lie about how important his honour is to him. There’s a whole article on how Clare Kilner, the director of E4 S1, decided that Cole removing his armour slowly was necessary because it symbolises his inner conflict and uncertainty over breaking his vow: should he soil his cloak for the sake of the woman he loves? And he does soil it, because he thinks she loves him back. But that honourable man dies the day Rhaenyra tells him that he’ll never be anything more than a side piece to her. This man stops giving a flying fuck about his honour, oath, position and life. He is trying to kill himself. And you know what stops him? Alicent. Alicent is the only thing between him and death, the only person to show him kindness and understanding, to pull him up from the lowest point in his life. I don’t think you heard Alicent in E7 S1: “No, you’re sworn to me!”. Y’all. His life is hers. He doesn’t care about Rhaenyra, his job, Viserys, anyone else at this point. Only Alicent exists in his mind, Fabien himself has said time and time again that his loyalty to her is unwavering. He only exists for Alicent’s sake. He’s who you wish Daemon was. Crying that “Criston is a bad knight and a liar because he broke his chastity oath yet again!” is so pointless because that knight has been dead since Rhaenyra’s marriage to Laenor. What does an oath mean when you find out the people you swore it to have betrayed you? Why should he keep his promise to the people who abused him?

[loving-family-poll]

Ultimate Incest Tournament - Semifinals

Propaganda under the cut:

Sam/Dean:

I'm sorry but they have it all. children of metaphorical incest just continuing the cycle in any way they can. they are brothers and mother + son and wives and each other's scorned lovers and life partners they've had multiple infidelity arcs they are sexually psychopathic together they have forsook life and morality and the earth itself for each other and just love each other so much . They are literally in a heaven of their own making together for eternity, incestuously. Come on!!! Blueprint!!!!! It's not gay if he's your brother!!!!!

dean did stuff to sam's dead body in ahbl. i just know it

Messed-up, isolated sibs with all the daddy and abandonment issues. Their lives are so claustrophobic with the brothers no more than five feet apart in the car, a motel room, or standing next to civilians (face it, they are frigging magnets). Can't leave out that they are always touching each other to check for wounds which is a huge PLUS for any shipper.

Sam and Dean ARE literally the blowjob brothers. They walk into a situation and everyone goes well well well if it isn't the blowjob brothers....... And they say. Yep. That's us. And then they fix the situation with their epic love story

THE classic, iconic, show shopping, never done before etc. etc. incest ship. It changed fandom and it changed the world

Dave/Rose:

Daverose blondetwin sweep because they were codependent without ever meeting from growing up seeing each other in their dreams

What does it mean to be an abused teenage boy growing up alone and seeing a girl in your dreams every night who is also your best friend. and when you finally meet her you go on a suicide mission together even though nobody was asking you to die with her. and then you are the only two human beings left in the recognizable universe on a cold meteor surrounded by aliens but you’re glad it’s with her. and when you finally touch the girl from your childhood dreams she looks exactly like you. because she’s your sister

I don't have words for how good these snarky assholes are together. DaveRose is brain chemistry changing. They both put up so many fronts, and engage in so much snarky wordplay, and are constantly trying to get under each other's facade. They play off each other so well, witty and sharp, I need them to be together always

We all die & we all die alone are the two cold truths of the universe but dave and rose broke both simultaneously by ascending to godhood together

Their twincest wins because it is just so confusingly tragic? profound? dave leaving rose behind in a doomed world, dave following her to the bomb. they are both so closed & cut off & curt its hard to imagine the depth of these things. but that is their love language: giving up their lives for each other over and over, in a confusing and fumbling and heartfelt love song. i can’t say i love you but i know we’ll die together anyway. because we’re made of the exact same stuff. i’ll find you again at the last moment. that’s love.

THEY DIED TOGETHER, YOUR HONOR

Confirmed canon by the author, (something happened) between them. Parallels of dying by each other's sides in EVERY timeline. They are THE womb-to-tomb. There is nothing platonic about winking at your brother while talking about crushes, that shit is incestuous. Seer/Knight archetype. They will die protecting each other.

do you realize love someone if you don’t follow them on a suicide mission into the gaping maw of a literal fucking sun after they knock you out and psychoanalyze you in your dreams? the blueprint of the “ethereal androgynous blonde boygirl twins” trope. witch/knight dynamics. they find each other to die together in every timeline no matter what (but they’re still emotionally constipated teenagers who bicker and make fun of each other in pesterchum). kids with grown-up powers. perfect little freaks of nature. what if we looked exactly like each other’s eyes

[j4gm]

SPOILERS!!! REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS IN F&C ep. 10: CHEERS

The finale!

Pawn Swan! This was another character who first appeared in Steve Wolfhard's post-finale loredump about the 1000+ world. I never expected to actually see him in the show.

Nuts how this is like the third time we've seen Simon's ass. I love how Shermy is just chilling and playing video games while GOLB lets this random old man take a turn at the wheel.

This establishing shot of Fionnaworld shows that it's very small. By the time it is restored at the end of the episode, this ominous white border is gone and there are more buildings, implying that it became a complete world.

I can't believe Gary was thirsting after Scarab in this situation.

There is a shop called Evergree Flowers; likely a reference to the episode Evergreen.

This shop window advertises that you can learn to kick bugs. Appropriately enough, Cake kicks Scarab through this shop window while in her Godzilla form.

The Betty statue has become GOLBetty.

It should be clear by this point that Casper and Nova are a parallel to Simon and Betty, with all of their decisions being made by Casper with little consideration for Nova due to their unbalanced power dynamic. This is why Simon realises that he should have been more considerate of Betty's dreams, rather than single-mindedly chasing the Enchiridion and the crown.

The credits confirm that genderswapped Ash is named Ashley. I wonder what happened to her after she fell into the void. Probably nothing good.

Poor Marshall never gets to finish his songs. Truly he is the genderswapped Marceline.

The name "GOLBetty" is now canon; Simon uses it in this scene.

I'm not sure what's happening to GOLBetty here. A loose thread to pick up if this story ever gets a continuation, perhaps.

Simon steps through several different universes, including all the ones we saw during this miniseries. I'm not sure what this world full of tiny bears is meant to be.

Some kind of industrial capitalist hell universe.

This is the Water Park Prank artstyle, implying that Water Park Prank takes place in a separate but canon universe. So Water Park Prank is now canonically canonical! (what a ridiculous phrase)

Some kind of Jake universe.

A universe featuring Magwood and his volcano lair, from the episode Evergreen.

The snail! It's not dead after all. And it's a great way of symbolising a return to regular Ooo, as is the reappearance of the smiley butterfly.

This was a strange selection of characters. I hope Jay hasn't left his younger siblings on their own if their dad is dead. At least baby Finn won't have to grow up in Vampworld, though part of me liked imagining what that would have been like.

Fionna mentions that his is her top fantasy. The other two of her top three fantasies were Cake being able to talk and a kingdom made of candy.

She gets a hammer, like she had in the dream sequence at the very beginning of the miniseries.

Kheirosiphon goes back to working in a teashop, just like he did on The Drift before he was imprisoned by Scarab. Also Marshall's outfit here is incredibly gay, it's great.

There is an ad here for a daddy issues themed comedy night. Sounds like Marceline's kind of place.

Prismo's face glitches for a second. Ominous.

Simon definitely needs to move out. This is probably an even more important realisation than coming to understand his influence over Betty.

In the credits of this episode, Simon is finally at peace.

And with that, the miniseries is over! Back to the long wait. Will this be it for Adventure Time? Or is there yet more to come...

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Lord Husband (Chapter 12)

A/N: ik it took be forever to post this, pls dont crucify me. I also don't care if we have canon cregan; thats literally not my man

WORD COUNT: 1,078 words

masterlist

You gave him hope. You knew you did and perhaps you shouldn’t have. It would have been easier if you didn’t, but you think you… wanted to? Do you want to have dinner with him?

“Seven hells.” You grumble to Sȳndror after you’ve dismounted. “I suppose I have to eat with him.”

Well, you know you don’t have to. You didn’t even give him proper confirmation, but it’s much simpler to think of it as something you can’t avoid, you decide, making the walk back inside the castle.

“Draw my bath.” You say to Rose as you enter your chambers. “And you’ll need to select a proper evening gown for me today. I’ll be having my supper with Lord Stark.”

“You will?” Your handmaiden asks, looking at you as though you’ve grown a second head.

“I have just said it, haven’t I? Don’t look so bewildered.”

“My apologies.” She curtseys and runs off to start your bath.

When you walk over to the prepared tub, she begins to help you undress. “My apologies for my harsh tone. The situation is simply unusual for me.”

“You never need to apologize, princess. I understand fully.” She finishes undoing your dress and lets the garment drop before also helping you out of your shift.

“I brought him to meet Sȳndror today.” You say wistfully as you step into the perfectly hot bath. Rose always knows just how you like it.

“What prompted that?” She asks carefully, knowing that not even your closest friends have met the beast.

“He caught me watching him train. I wanted to frighten him.” You reply and she giggles.

“I would expect nothing less.” She says and begins to wash your body clean from the smell of dragon. “I also quite like watching the way the northernmen train.”

“There is something unique about the way they move.” You murmur thoughtfully.

“I would say there is something… primal in it.” Rose says with a giggle, clearly thinking about a different adjective in truth.

“Yes, it's very rough.” You muse.

“Did he get along with Sȳndror?” She asks, now running her fingers through your wet hair.

“He is not dead. So, I suppose the answer is yes.” You both giggle.

“Well, I am sure he is appreciative of the honour.”

“He doesn’t quite realize how much of an honour it is.”

“Lord Stark doesn’t know he is the first non-Targaryen you have brought to meet your dragon?” She gives you a slightly bewildered look.

“Of course not. He would be far too pleased with himself if he knew.” You roll your eyes and with your hair washed, you stand, Rose bringing you a robe.

“It is very gracious of you to allow him the meeting nonetheless.” 

“I am known to be gracious.” You reply with a cheeky smile and the both of you giggle.

“I am excited that you’ll be getting more wear out of your evening gowns.” Rose says as she throws open the doors of your closet. “This one could be most suitable.” She holds out a stormy grey dress and you scoff.

“There’s no way in the Seven Hells i’m wearing Stark colours.”

“But it would make him go positively insane.” Rose muses.

“I’ll have one of my black and red gowns.” You say, ignoring her. “The one with the sleeves that Baela adores.”

“Oh, that will be a splendid choice. Lord Stark has never seen you in a proper evening gown. This one will make for a strong start.” She admires the dress in the cupboard before fetching your small clothes.

When you’re dressed, you look nothing short of phenomenal. 

“He may faint from the sight of you.”

“I hope he does.” You murmur, checking yourself one last time in the mirror before strutting out of the room. “Come, Ser Robert. I will be suppering with Lord Stark.” You say to the surprised guard as you walk past him.

“You will dine… with your husband, princess?” He asks in a confused tone as he catches up with you.

“Well I just said that, did I not?” You shoot in a snarky tone.

He chuckles. “My apologies. I simply did not realize you enjoyed his company.”

“I am starting to think that I don’t enjoy your company. Perhaps I should get a new protector.” 

“Any man but I will be subpar and that is the second time you have threatened to replace me today, princess. Should I be worried?”

“Not worried. Perhaps just less irritating.” You smile.

“Anything to please her highness.” He responds playfully just before the two of you arrive at one of the smaller dining halls in the castle. The doors are thrust open for you, your protector waiting just outside as you walk in.

Cregan stands when he sees you and immediately makes his way over before bringing your hand up for a kiss. “Princess.” He murmurs, not wanting to seem too casual by using your name (even if you are his wife).

“Lord Stark.” Your formality makes him frown. His own formality also made him frown.

“That dress looks beautiful on you.” He says, wanting to make sure you know he’s complimenting you and not the gown. He couldn’t care less about a few pieces of fabric.

“You are also looking well.” You murmur in response, meeting his eyes for a fraction of a second before gliding out of his hold and to your seat. You can feel the ghostly touch of his lips on your hand and you see how he lingers for just a moment before sitting down himself.

“How was your ride today?” He asks as you start to plate your food.

“‘Twas as good as it can be. Sȳndror is restless these days. He doesn’t enjoy flying as high as he used to; I think the bite of chill in the air bothers him.”

“I hope that he can settle soon. It will get warmer… in a few months' time.” Cregan tries to help, but the discussion of the passage of time unnerves you. You don’t want to think about how in a few months, you will still be here.

“He isn’t used to being alone.” Neither are you.

“Then we will have to house your brothers for a visit. I know how important family is.” He sees it then, the little glimmer in your eyes at the suggestion. Your husband feels like he’s made you somewhat happy for the first time ever.

“I would like that.”

comment to be added to the taglist

[justanotherhh]

some trailer things:

big fight around lust/ozzie's place that involves m&m and loona + we know fizzarolli is going to make another appearance, so i wonder how that'll connect potentially. also, new villain?

obvs the whole section of CHERUB working with DHORKS and this massive thing/portal:

john waters big villain episode???? (ghostfuckers from the looks of things)

also more crossdressing in that same episode + millie vs possessed blitz? both millie and blitz giving some evil dead type vibes?

more on stolas' whole social sphere and potential judgement and hell's class politics related to his dating blitz + p much confirmed that blitz will not take stolas' gift in the spirit it was intended

also, "you fucks think you can do this every time-" feels not just like it's about the wider class issues in hell, but maybe like it's personal (potentially with verosika? although it does seem like it's canon that he had more than a little bit of a hand in ending that relationship, so could just be him echoing everything he's been seeing in the treatment of imps and putting that onto stolas in this moment)

and then "thank you blitz, for making me so happy, even for a little while" is during this moment too. lot of teasers for how this is gonna go down (badly, upsettingly, emotionally)

the whole "do you feel any remorse for what you do" feels like a misdirect -- that is, it's edited to look like it's about blitz, but i feel like it's directed at stella or her brother

generally a lot of fun stolas visuals that i won't get into here, but am excited to see more contexts for

also this isn't new, but im always interested in blitz's heart/broken-heart forehead marking

blitz and tilla moment! generally more flashbacks (in the shape of blitz seeming to be almost at the movies, watching his own "failures") around the time of the fire! i didn't see any barbie stuff, alas, but the rest of it looks !!! also lowkey confirmed it was cash who stopped blitz from seeing fizz in hospital

who's this?

another sin? maybe related to ozzie and/or stolas and that judgement of the kinds of people they love?

blitz protecting stolas - maybe from the above, considering the hand motif of it all... stolas really living the life of blitz as a romantic hero, while blitz is barely holding it together as a person the whole time. different genres, my guys. different genres (that's their real communication issue)

this fuck-you-blitz cake looks like a verosika thing to do, esp considering it's her calling him shitty in the VO -- but yay, maybe giving that verosika catharsis, but also generally just verosika!

also the VO part where he says he doesn't want to be this way, he's wearing the same shroud as during his confrontation with verosika. idk, im just. contexts for things. i am curious

is the below also the same episode? I'd think so. it's set during halloween (?) and blitz is then maybe in the blood-covered shroud (costume? undercover? going undercover as a ghost? post-breakup stalking undercover ghost costume?)

MAMMON! and he looks pleased. oh dear.

this blitz + fizz moment

it kinda looks like blitz is wearing the same tee as when he and stolas have their moment + a horse bag + fizz casual wear. fizz generally in this trailer seems to be having the best time (outside the flashbacks). everything makes me suspicious all the time

(also generally hello all the different outfits coming up!!)

fascinated by this:

is that millie?

things we didn't see:

no barbie, no striker, no crimson, no asmodeus (directly, although his imagery is everywhere + fizz and mammon appear), no paimon -- this not to say none of them will show up, but am enjoying that a lot of this is clearly pulling from s1, with the focus on verosika, DHORKS, and CHERUB -- potentially a lot of the s2 villains need some time to lick their wounds a bit (and paimon was never a Villain, just a terrible parent... if he ever returns though...)

and barbie... i do want to see barbie again soonish ngl, she needs some proper introducing, but this is already giving so much callback and continuation of immediate plot-threads, very excited

[genericpuff]

I really don't like how Melinoe looks like a female Hades with Persephone's pink eyes. It's too generic. Maybe keep her hair and eye colors, but maybe make her skin color a blend of both of them, like a muted purple/gray to contrast her with Dionysus? Anything other than what she has in canon.

What's wild is that the narrative is trying to convince us now that all of the dreams he had of him and Persephone were just peeks into the future. But if that's the case-

1.) Melinoe learns to communicate verbally at some point

2.) There's ANOTHER BABY we haven't even established yet (though Rachel did confirm in a tweet from ages ago that it's some god named Brimos who she read about in a book when she was a kid ???):

(but Brimo was an epithet associated with Hecate/Persephone/other gods of the dead, not necessarily an actual direct offspring of H x P, so... yeah, weird choice of a 'nod' especially now that she's trying to implement Hades' dreams into the plot as 'future sight' or w/e)

3.) All of the visions of their future together feature children that predominantly resemble Hades, not Persephone. This is really telling as to how much the relationship - both on a narrative level and even a visual one - revolves around Hades. Persephone is just an accessory, to the point that none of their children can resemble her in any major way, only through very miniscule references, such as the vines coming out of Melinoe's back and her pink eyes (whereas "Brimos" doesn't resemble her at all).

4.) This goes hand-in-hand with #3, but Dionysus and Thanatos are not present in any of these visions. I'm willing to give Thanatos a pass because he's an adult man (although it does just go to show how little Hades views him as a child), but what about Dionysus? Does his absence from these scenes tell us that Persephone found other accommodations for him? Or, more likely, is it because Rachel never planned to include Dionysus in the first place? And of course, Dionysus' design is also inherently linked to Hades, because while he has purple skin (referencing wine/grapes/etc.) he's got white hair that's explained as a genetic trait that's been passed down through Hades.

All that said, the baby plotlines in LO are a mess in and of themselves, and you can tell just how much of it revolves around Persephone "fixing" Hades or being the solution to all of his infertility and relationship problems. Persephone is the most perfect woman of all who Hades is dependant on to solve all of his problems, everything is about what she can provide him and what he can stand to gain from her, even if it means dragging her down to his level.

Man. Minthe was right.

(seriously in ANY other story this would have been FORESHADOWING-)

[getlostsquidward]

a shot in the darkest dark

pairing: emily prentiss x reader; emily prentiss x andrew mendoza

a/n: pls excuse the rusty writing. it's been almost 2 years since I've written something andddd this is my first time writing for emily teehee :D

warnings: angst, hurt/(a bit of) comfort, canon-typical violence (plot is set between events of 14x15 to 15x2 with some plot changes for self-indulgent purposes), gun violence, gunshot wounds, blood and injury

summary: to save the lives at stake in the hands of an unsub, you dared yourself to reveal your deepest, darkest truth.

Everyone is tensed as the unsub, Casey Pinkner, is forcing Melissa to kill the store manager, eager to prove that she’s just as capable of hurting other people as anybody is. Casey hands Melissa the gun, reminding her that her daughter will be dead if she doesn’t follow.

JJ intervenes. “Come on. She’s got nothing to do with this, okay? Just let her go. She’s not a part of this. You have no reason to hurt her. Just let her go.”

Casey smirks, a new idea seemingly brews in his head. He grabs the gun from Melissa, walks over to JJ, and grabs her hair. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

You and Spencer stay still and silent as you let things unfurl, that is until the unsub pushes the poor store manager away and shoots her.

“Do not move!”

Casey then hands the gun to Melissa again, which she accepts easily this time. “New deal. Now you need to kill one of these three.”

She’s shaking but aims the gun in your direction still.  “Who’s it gonna be?”

Melissa looks the three of you in the eye and pleads, “Please, I don’t want to do this.” 

Looking at your peripheral vision, you know that JJ and Spence have something up their sleeve to avoid having Melissa shoot one of you. Spencer never wavers with his eye contact with Melissa, while JJ looks ahead with a determined look on her face.

“Judge, you’ve got to decide. That’s what you do, right? Decide life or death with a flick of your gavel.”

The judge trembles while aiming the gun at each of you until the shrill ring of the telephone makes all of you jump. Finally, they’ve opened a line of communication with Casey, and you were just hoping that he at least take the call even though you know that he has what he wants and most likely won’t negotiate. 

He lets it ring, contemplating if he should pick it up. Reid encourages him. “Answer it, Casey.”

Casey tells Reid to shut up, further confirming your feeling that he won’t talk to somebody from the outside. He turns to Melissa. “Pull the trigger.”

By this time, Melissa’s gun is aimed at the ground, and you’re currently steeling yourself to what might happen next — until Casey does the unexpected. 

He lets the phone off the receiver but doesn’t pick it up to speak with your team outside. He just…let it in the open, letting everyone hear what’s happening inside.

Huh.

He turns his focus back on Melissa. “Pull the trigger.”

You share a look with JJ and Reid, and before any of them can speak up. You kneeled from your position. “Casey. If Melissa won’t play, I will.”

JJ and Spence looked at you as you tried to settle with the unsub, the blonde shaking her head. You knew JJ was planning to do it as well but you beat her to it.

“Truth or dare. That’s your game, right?” You asked, standing slowly. Casey hesitates but aims his gun at you nonetheless. “I’ll play.”

On the other hand, your team outside has finally accessed the security feed, all the while listening to you. The good thing was even though the camera wasn’t capable of audio, the unsub let them listen through the phone.

“All right, looks like Reid, Y/L/N, and JJ are tied up, and it’s the shop manager that was shot. Right? Look. She’s still moving.”

Simmons studies the feed, and points at the door caught by the camera. By now they’re delegating the police with their positions and Tara asks Garcia to route the video and sound feed to the local police department where Emily is.

“Melissa, the weapon, now!”

“Casey, I know what it’s like, to be wrongly accused, sent to prison for a crime you didn’t commit,” Reid says, trying to empathize with the unsub.

As expected, Casey didn’t buy it even if it was the truth. He then turned his attention to you. “Okay, agent…” 

“Y/L/N.”

“Agent Y/L/N. Truth or dare.”

Without hesitation, you responded. “Truth.”

“If I think you’re lying or stretching the truth in the slightest, I’ll kill these two.”

When you nodded, Casey continued. “You ever shoot anybody before?”

“Yes, I have.”

“You enjoy it?”

“No.”

“Liar!”

“No, no, no. I’m not lying. I had no choice when I shot those people. But I did not enjoy it. I didn’t.” He seems to accept your answer somehow, and when doesn’t follow up, you do. “Okay, you asked, and I told the truth, okay? It’s the truth. So now it’s my turn, right? That’s how this game is played. We take turns. Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

“What’s it gonna take for all of us to walk out of here alive, for this to end peacefully?” You know it’s a long shot, but it never hurt to try when yours and four other lives are at stake. Casey shatters your hope with his response.

“I ain’t going back to prison. My turn. Truth or dare?”

You still picked truth, knowing that if you chose the other option, he most likely would dare you to kill JJ or Spencer or one of the civilian hostages—or yourself.

“I want you to say something you’re afraid to say, that you’d never tell anybody. And you better make it good, because if it’s not, it’s gonna be the last thing you ever say.”

You nod in understanding, wracking your brain for anything that you can use to say. You gasped as he shot Melissa, cutting you off as he viewed what you said as boring. “Next!”

Your chest is heaving as you think carefully about what to say next, nerves getting the best of you. Knowing very well that time is of the essence, your throat then decides to close up as if it’s physically hurting you to say the words that will come out of your mouth. Casey was having none of it as he dragged you back on your knees. “Last chance. Something you would never say aloud, not even to your partners here. Your deepest, darkest secret. Impress me, or I kill them both.”

You’re so close to hyperventilating as you look at your two teammates with tears in your eyes, and before you pass out and drop the chance to save everyone, you rush the words without thinking anymore.

“Um...I'm seeing someone, a lovely woman, but I'm... still hung up on Emily. My boss,” you chuckled sadly. Looking up as the unsub reaches out for the phone, assuming that he wanted to let your team outside hear what you have to say, you continued. “She and I uh, we kind of had a...I'm not even sure what to call it. We had a thing before she left for London. Of course, we still had communication, but we never got to talk about that. Talk about us, and now the rest is history.”

Back at the station, Emily gulped when her name was mentioned, feeling Luke’s curious eyes on her as he got ready to go to rescue Melissa’s daughter. Her jaw clenched as she kept her features schooled, she could not let her emotions take over her right now. There's a nothing-to-lose unsub with two civilian and three federal agents hostage in closed quarters. An erratic unsub whose gun is pointed at your head, for god's sake. She can deal with that later.

“I thought I'd get over it, you know. But what's that saying? Distance makes the heart grow fonder. That's when I realized that I...” you trailed off, shaking your head. The unsub is having none of it when he reminds you of the gun on your head. “When she came back to the BAU I was prepared to take this feeling down to the grave.”

“Go on, say it. Don't hold back.”

Your eyes darted to the ceiling, searching for any CCTV that could capture your face. There was none, you figured it was placed somewhere out of your line of sight. Relieved that none of the team could see your face, you took a big breath as you finally revealed your deepest secret to everyone. To her.

“I'm in love with you, Emily Prentiss. I always have, and I always will. I was fine without you knowing this, but god I think about what could've been, every waking moment of my life.”

It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your chest as you finally confronted your feelings. You know that you've been in love with Emily for a long time now but you didn't have it in you to put it in words. Confronting your feelings for her made you scared, so much so that you waited for Emily to say something first until case after case passed…until she eventually left to work in Interpol, words left unsaid. Years have passed and you didn't hear a peep about it from the woman, which left you hanging on to your feelings for the BAU Unit Chief. You knew that you should’ve moved on a long time ago, but you just…couldn’t.

“Hot damn,” Casey chuckles. “That’s what I’m talking about. Now those are some last words right there, but not good enough to save your life.”

The relief in saying it out loud almost made you overlook the unsub’s finger onto the trigger until Spencer shot him in the gut. You and JJ turned to him, noticing the gun holster in his ankle. As if on cue, the police then bursts out the door. You let JJ them about the wounded, allowing yourself to ruminate on what just happened.

Once outside, you let the cool night’s air hit your face, hoping that no one talks to you about what happened tonight—though knowing that you’ll have to deal with this confession sooner or later once you return home.

Perhaps it can wait until after Dave and Krystall’s wedding.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The world seems to have given you its grace as Emily didn’t bring Mendoza with her…but you know full well that grace can be and will be recalled anytime as your plus one chat with Penelope, Spencer, and Tara at the bar. 

While Penelope keeps them busy, you give in on doing what you deprived yourself of the past couple of hours—indulging at the sight of Emily, how her off-shoulder dress allows you to drink in the skin of her neck and shoulders, and how you used to—

Nope. Don’t.

Before you can’t help but go down the rabbit hole that is Emily Prentiss, you turn your attention back to the bar. “Pen, can I have double of your fancy drinks?”

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Sophie asks, her hand on your back. 

“Hmm? Nothing, just wanted to feel the bite of ‘The Rossi’,” you smile, and before she can comment on it, you let the drink burn through your throat until there’s nothing left on the glass. 

Emily goes to put her gift on the side, standing next to JJ as she subtly looks around the room to search for you. She spots you at the bar, shaking your head as you set your glass down. Emily makes a mental note to ask for one of those later, knowing that she needs to have liquid courage if she has to watch you with your date all night. She’ll need all the help she can get to talk to you.

She’s yet to speak her side about your confession, deliberately separating yourself from her as you got into the other SUV on the way to the airport that night. As she expected, you’d also kept your distance from her on the jet.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The ceremony was short and simple, but the love between the wedding couple made it so much special. You can’t keep the smile off your face as you watch your friend and father figure to get his second chance with the love of his life.

“Their marriage was in the stars…”

You find yourself mustering all of your resolve to not look at Emily as she gives her toast, so you let her voice lull you back to that rabbit hole again. With your feelings for her out in the open, it was hard not to fall back to the routine where you’ll think back to the nights of passion and words of ardor whispered to each other’s ears only, and soft smiles are exchanged. Moments which you hold very dear to your heart.

“...Twin flames, two souls that are always meant to be together.”

You keep your tears at bay on how beautiful Emily’s toast speech is, and how you can’t help but think that maybe…you wish that there’s a part of her that thinks of you while she utters those words. You wish those words were meant for you, too, because right now, she’s all you can think of. 

“Sometimes it takes time, sometimes it takes a parallel universe or something, but the thing about twin flames is that nothing can keep them apart…”

A sad smile appears on your face. Maybe, in a parallel universe, Emily Prentiss is in love with you too.

“To David and Krystall.”

The crowd’s cheer rouses you out of your deep thoughts, raising your glass to make a toast. You had the full intention of avoiding Emily physically tonight, but alas, the world has had enough of you running away as you find Emily’s dark eyes on you—like you’re the only person in the room.

Emily felt like her heart restarted again when you finally returned her gaze—and kept it. It made her burn inside. So when she spotted you walking to the bar alone, she kept that fire blazing and started up a conversation.

“Hey.”

Emily knew you’d already seen her coming and was glad you didn’t try to escape. “Hey, you,” you replied, a ghost of a smile appearing on your lips. It was fast, but Emily caught it still. She’s thinking carefully about what to say next when you speak again.

“Look, what I said back there, I needed to say something that would get his attention, and I needed to get to say something that would get everyone’s attention, you know, so I uh- I just needed to throw him off balance,” there was a slight waver in your voice which you played off with a nervous chuckle.

Emily knows that…but she needed to confirm something that’s been at the forefront of her mind lately. She needs to hear it, to see it. “Y/N… Truth or dare.”

Her eyes, at this close distance and with the lighting, offer its lucky spectator with the gold specks within her brown eyes. Before you could get yourself lost in it again, you answered. “Truth.”

“Did you mean it?”

You tried your best to convey it with your eyes, though you know she needs to hear it too—but then someone bursts the bubble you and Emily are in, effectively cutting off your trance. “Guys, they’re about to cut the cake," Sophie says, before kissing your cheek and interlacing her fingers with yours. She then turns to Emily. “Can I steal her for a second?” 

Emily nods, letting her whisk you away. Although baby steps were made today, she’s afraid that she might have to live with never hearing your answer.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The wedding allowed everyone to take a short reprieve from the horrors of your job, but the Everett Lynch case has been giving everyone a migraine (Rossi in particular) that sometimes you just want to bash your head in your desk in frustration. You feel for the man and his commitment to catching Lynch, which is why you’re now flooring the pedal on the way to the US Attorney’s Office to make sure Everett doesn’t break his daughter Grace out.

You can’t wait for backup any longer so you, JJ, and Reid split off to cover the underground garages where you can cut Lynch and Grace off. Reid and JJ ran off to the parking in Piedmont and 10th, while you now entered the parking in Trade Plaza as you spotted the father and daughter were about to get into a van. 

“Everett Lynch! FBI! Stop! Drop your weapon and place your hands on your head. Now!”

Lynch slowly puts his gun on the ground and kicks it over, so you order to do the same with her backpack. 

You've been in the same positions enough to know not to take your eyes off the suspects, even for a split second, but you guessed you’re not always lucky as you didn’t anticipate Grace shooting you down. 

It wasn’t in her profile. Like father, like daughter, you mused.

And well, your luck must have run out already, because in all places to have been shot, it’s in a place that’s not covered by your vest. You’re lying on the pool of your blood as the tires of their getaway car squeal out of the parking lot. You try to reach out for your gun in an attempt to shoot it down, but your vision is already blurring at the sides. 

You could faintly hear Spencer’s voice on your earpiece, but you can’t find the strength to answer it as you’re holding on to what remaining energy you have from succumbing to the darkness.

Eventually, you did, and the last thing you know is unfamiliar faces hovering over you, and the harsh lights of the hospital. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Your heart stopped.

Emily’s might as well do, too. 

“If I’d believe you, maybe-”

“No. There’s only one person to blame for this. Everett Lynch. He’s the one who shot Y/N, and he’s the one that we’ll move heaven and earth to bring to justice.”

Rossi reminded Emily that none of this is her fault, but she can’t help her mind going haywire over the thought of you getting hurt. She lets a few tears escape her eyes, before taking a deep breath and joining the others at the round table.

“Y/N’s gotta be okay, right? But what if she’s not okay? What if she’s—”

“Y/N’s strong, and she’s in good hands.”

Emily placed her hands at the back of the chair to keep her grounded, but her trembling hands hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of the team. “Spence is staying at the hospital. He’s gonna keep us updated. In the meantime, the best thing we can do for Y/N-” her voice falters at your name, but she also has to keep her head in the game as the unit chief. “-Is to find Everett and Grace before they go deep underground.” 

She reads Spencer’s update to the team that you’re now in surgery, and then her heart stutters over the next text she gets.

It’s going to be a while. She’s gonna want to see you too when she wakes up, Emily.

The sun has long been set when Emily couldn’t hold herself back anymore and asks Rossi to take charge in the meantime. The unit chief arrives just in time as the doctor tells Reid that you're out of surgery. “Is she gonna be okay?” She asked with bated breath.

“She’s lost a lot of blood, but she’s currently stable.”

“Can we see her right now?”

The doctor nods and leads the two to your room. Emily lets out the breath that she's been holding as soon as she hears the steady beeping of the monitor. She couldn't help herself as she approached your still sleeping figure, her hand cupping your face, thumb softly caressing the apple of your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were missing sooner,” Spencer whispered.

“You haven't talked with her yet.” He continued, but it’s no longer directed at you.

It's not a question, everybody knows the tension that's been up with the two of you ever since the confession. No one attempted to bring it up—not when the two of you are present, anyway.

You, nor Emily didn’t bring it up anymore after the wedding, either, as both of you didn’t know how to talk about it. Now you’re back to walking on eggshells around each other.

How do you even go back to how you were before?

Emily retracted her hand. “Unless it's about a case, no.”

“Have you ever talked to anyone about it?”

“No.”

Sad would be an understatement for Emily. She's been oceans apart from the team, from you, when she was in London but right now, you've never felt so far. Emily desperately wanted to reach out to you, but she didn't know what to say. There's also the fact that you're keeping her at arm's length, and that drives the two of you even further away from one another.

“You should, right now. The doctor said it’s unlikely that she can hear us, but it’ll be good for you to let it out.” Spencer pats her shoulder as an offer of consolation. “I’ll be right out.”

Unlike before, Emily didn’t bother to collect her thoughts anymore, letting her heart speak instead. “I know things between the two of us have been kind of weird lately…ever since you said you’re in love with me.”

It has been playing in her head since that moment…then there was one night when she’d hit rock bottom, and asked Penelope to get the audio file of your confession sent to her phone. It was the closest thing to ‘bringing it up’ with anyone from the team, but even then when Garcia asked Emily about it when her head was clearer, she shrugged the technical analyst off.

“I heard it, and it’s yet to leave my head, but the truth is I don’t know what to do with that. I mean I know why you said it, but what I’m itching to know is…if you meant it. But now, all of a sudden none of that matters. What matters is that you wake up. Come back to me, so I get to have more time with you.”

Emily sits at the edge of your bed and takes your hand in hers. The feeling of your soft and gentle touches against her skin now felt like a fever dream, something that she was not sure if it had happened with how long ago it was. “I can’t imagine my life without you in it, Y/N. Please don’t leave me.”

She lets out a breath that she’s been holding, taking in the features of your face. How your lashes kiss your skin, the way your brow furrows together as you read case reports, or how your nose scrunches up when you smile.

Emily dreams of you that night.

“Em.”

She only hums in response.

“Emily Prentiss,” you tried again, but she only groaned. “Em.” This time, you take your free hand to her head, because she’s taken your other hand hostage.

Finally, she stirs awake at your touch. “Did you sleep here all night?”

“Huh?”

You chuckled at her groggy features. She’s adorable. “How are you more out of it than I am?”

Emily only laughs softly in return, letting go of your hand as she sputters apologies.

“I’m glad you’re here, Em.”

“You’re my best friend. Where else would I be?”

…Right. I’m your best friend.

When you didn’t answer, Emily stood up. “I should go and let you get some rest.” 

“No. No, not yet,” you racking your brain on what to say next, to prevent Emily from leaving. “I…I’ve missed you.” You’ll just blame it later on the drugs they put you in.

“Me too.”

“It’s my fault that things have been weird between the two of us.” Emily tensed up at that, so you went on. “Yeah, I heard you…Um, we do need to talk about what I said.”

“No, we don’t-”

You grasped Emily’s hand in yours to stop her. She lets you continue. “I needed to say something real, and that’s what came out, and I’m so sorry. I didn’t—I never meant to do that to you…or her, to Sophie. I was prepared to take that secret to the grave, but now it’s out. And I can’t…lie to you and say I didn’t mean it. Because I do. I’m deeply in love with you. I know that’s not fair, springing this onto you when I know you love Andrew, and I want you to be happy…and I just want us to be okay.”

“We are,” Emily smiles, genuinely for the first time in days, also while keeping her tears at bay. She squeezes your hand in assurance.

You’re the first one to let go of her touch, already missing her hand that you think perfectly fits with yours.

Baby steps. 

But this time, maybe, you can let Emily go the same way you’ve always loved her. Silently.

[kidconsky]

Okay.... Let's analyze what happened in dcmk these last few weeks. Obvious SPOLIERS will be commented so you know.

> Appearance of Aoko's mother in Magic Kaito.

Where was she all this time? Why did she never appear or even show a sign of life? She didn't even call her daughter on her birthday... She appears so oblivious to everything, she didn't even know who Kaitou Kid was since her husband has always been obsessed with trying to catch this thief for YEARS. It seems like Gosho just randomly placed her in the story without trying to connect with the canon, it's almost as if she was a character outside of her original manga.

> Film 27 and its breaks in logic and common sense.

After all these years, Gosho decided to go against everything he had already said and made the Kaishin to be cousins, not only ruining a unique relationship (whether you shipped or not) but also bringing plot holes and contradictions in the story. If they are cousins ​​what's the excuse for them never trying to even interact before? Why was it that when Yukiko first met Kaito, she never acted like she was related to her? The same with Toichi, she always talked about him as just her teacher and NOTHING more than that, it doesn't make sense to put that in the story now. Why did Kaito never even have support from his family? Not even showing up at Toichi's symbolic funeral? How come Yusaku never went to talk to his late brother's family, even if he knew the truth KAITO DIDN'T KNOW...

No one even considered his feelings...

> All the bullshit involving Kaishin.

The biggest problem for me about them being cousins ​​is not just because of the ship but because of all the history and construction they had. It's as if everything that's different about them is summed up in the simple fact that they're related. But Kaishin has always had something unique, something that Gosho himself defined as "a mysterious bond". Them not having the slightest type of relationship made everything so unique, a connection that only the two of them could have together, one would easily understand the other even though they were complete strangers. Now I feel like they want to throw that away.

> TOICHI KUROBA AND MY HATE FOR HIM.

Gosho had already said that Toichi was possibly alive but the confirmation brought me a wave of anger and contempt that I had never felt for any other dcmk character (even bo). Let's think about Kaito in this whole story:

• lost his father when he was just a child and is still traumatized by it today.

• for 8 FUCKING YEARS he discovers that his father's death was never an accident but a murder.

• His father was actually an internationally wanted thief who was after a precious stone capable of bringing immortality.

• he steps into his father's shoes as KID and decides to try to find out for himself what happened to his father, who killed him and why.

• now there is a criminal organization that thinks he is the KID who didn't really die and they are trying to kill him once and for all.

• he decides to put himself at risk looking for Pandora, being something belonging to the organization and the police themselves.

• a lot of people hate him, regardless of whether he hurts people or not.

• more and more he becomes more and more removed from everything and becomes burdened with the KID charade.

• his own mother doesn't care about him, on the contrary, it seems like she likes to make things even more difficult for her son (she disguised herself as her dead ex-husband just to screw with her son's head, that's sickening to say the least).

• everything Kaito does is because of his father's murder, he never wanted to be KID, he never liked stealing, he doesn't do any of that for pleasure (except when it involves a certain mini detective but that's not the focus now ).

• and in the end his father was ALIVE all this time, doing who knows what while his son was risking his life because of him... BRO...

This whole thing is insane. And not in a good way.

[thefreakandthehair]

we feel a little warmer now.

rating: teen & up | wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-typical injuries, pre-relationship, getting together, fluff, light hurt/comfort | prompt: love is a fire that never goes out @steddielovemonth & a happy birthday gift for @henderdads! title from the woods, by hollow coves.

February in Indiana is still the dead of winter— cornfields are barren, trees sway in the wind without their leaves, and the sky seems to have a sheer layer of grey even on the cloudless days.

Eddie’s always loved winter. The shorter days followed by longer nights, snowy Sundays, watching the smoke from a joint or cigarette dance in the freezing air, and excuses to do donuts in the local abandoned grocery store parking lot. He’s always loved winter, or at least he did until his world shattered at his feet, leaving him with injuries that take ages to heal and scars that leave him perpetually cold.

It’s been difficult to explain, even to the people who’d lived it with him. He can’t fully enjoy winter anymore because the cold seeps into his bones, maybe through the scars, maybe just because of the nerve damage. He’ll never know for sure because Hawkins General doesn’t exactly have a Demobat Specialist on staff so he just keeps it to himself.

Well, mostly. Steve knows.

Hiding anything from Steve has proven impossible. His constant chill, his frustration with the new but still-improving limp, the grief, the guilt, the confusing simultaneous euphoria of survival. The only secret he’s managed to keep is the big fat crush he’s harbored, probably since Steve helped find him in the woods.

Maybe earlier. Maybe since high school. He tries not to think about it too much.

The point is, Steve knows and even if Eddie hasn’t said that it breaks his heart to lose the quiet winter nights smoking on the porch or the hood of his van, Steve figures that out, too.

He must, because Eddie nearly jumps out of his freezing skin when knuckles rap on the front door of his and Wayne’s new trailer. There’s a system these days: check the peep hole, crack the door with the chain still attached to confirm, and only then does Eddie open the door completely. An unfortunate system, but he’s far from the town hero that Steve’s been hailed as, albeit against his will.

Speaking of, through the peep hole, he sees Steve standing on his porch wrapped in what looks like a thick hoodie and winter coat.

“Who goes there?” Eddie asks, cracking the door and peering out with one eye.

“It’s me, you ass. Let me in, I have a surprise.”

The door chain unhooks with a metallic click and Steve enters the trailer like he belongs there.

Because he does, Eddie thinks.

“A surprise? For me? Oh, do tell.”

Steve stands in the living room, a live wire if Eddie’s ever seen one. His hair is a little messy, as though he’s been raking his fingers through it. His nose is pink, complemented by his frosty cheeks, and his eyes are wide and wild.

“If it’s overstepping or whatever, we can pretend I never mentioned it but I know how much you miss winter nights. And I uh, I built a fire pit at my house?” His voice pitches up, as though it’s a question.

“You built a fire pit? Today?”

Steve nods. “Yeah. It was a lot easier than I thought it would be honestly, time consuming but, yeah. I built a fire pit. And I was thinking that maybe with the fire and some blankets and a good jacket— a real winter coat, not just your leather jacket— you might be able to get some of that back.”

Eddie tries his best not to think about Steve lugging brick pavers and forcing them into place, thinking about Eddie and his stupid broken internal thermostat. Wanting to give him back something the Upside Down took. Worrying Eddie would somehow see this as overstepping.

It’s a quick Yes and even quicker drive to Loch Nora, a drive that Eddie’s always found hilarious. How can two neighborhoods exist so close together but feel like different worlds?

The whole way there, Eddie keeps Steve talking. If Steve’s talking, there’s less room for Eddie to spill yet another truth inadvertently, the only one left to spill. Instead, he asks questions about work, and Robin, and if he’s heard from his parents.

(“It sucks,” “she’s great,” “nope”. In that order.)

Pulling into the driveway, Eddie hops out of the car as best he can in one of Wayne’s old winter coats and follows Steve to the backyard. His jaw drops when he sees exactly what Steve’s done. More than a simple circle of bricks, there’s a pit made of concrete blocks in the center of a larger circle filled with wood chips and grey pavers marking the perimeter. Wood logs are already split in a pile off to the side next to two lawn chairs and dear God, Eddie really hopes that Steve bought that already split. He’s still not over him swinging on demobats with his bare hands, and the image of him with an axe is enough to put him down for good.

“C’mon, I’ll get it started,” Steve nudges their shoulders together and walks through the pit to the stack of logs.

Steve gets a roaring fire going, the kind that cracks and burns both red and blue, and passes Eddie an extra blanket. Flames dance beneath the clear sky, speckled with stars that do little to distract him from how unbearably warm he is for the first time in months.

People don’t just do things like this for him, not without expectation or out of obligation. So much of Eddie’s life has felt like a spectrum spanning from pity to transactional with very few exceptions in between.

Then again, Steve feels like an exception to a lot of things.

“Why?” Eddie eventually asks, exhaling a puff of cigarette smoke like a kid seeing his breath.

Steve shrugs and tosses the butt of his own cigarette into the flames. “You lost enough down there, and I know how that feels. If there’s something easy enough to fix, I want to. You deserve that.”

Eddie turns and sees Steve smiling, just a soft upturn of his lips as he looks up at the sky. His face is flushed and Eddie wants to think it’s not from the flames.

“You’re really something, you know that?” Eddie says, scooting his chair over close enough for the arms of their chairs to nearly touch.

Steve looks back from the sky to Eddie, long lashes and the scar on his neck on full display.

“That a good thing?”

Eddie nods. “Oh yeah, definitely. Maybe the best thing.”

They sit outside for hours, eventually sharing a blanket draped around their shoulders and a first kiss that lights him up from the inside.

Eddie’s warm long after the fire burns out.

[toffeecoco1]

A concept:

SQH is forced to reveal the system and/or his status as a transmigrator, due to a truth serum or whatever other convenient plot device. I HIGHLY doubt MBJ would just pass this knowledge on to LBH, especially if LBH didn’t ask—and how on earth would he think to ask??

So instead, I think at least part of it happens with LBH around. He watches SQH have a meltdown over being revealed, spewing nonsense about writing a book and then waking up inside it. He doesn’t even need to catch the entire mess, only fragments of it—enough to understand that it’s possible to jump from one world to the next, to end up in a world you already know.

And he starts wondering. Thinking about someone else he knows who has always known too much and brushed it off by claiming he read it in some book or another that Binghe can’t confirm exists. And though SQH appears to have found himself in this world as a child, who’s to say that’s the only possibility? His shizun’s personality changed suddenly and drastically, and he has no memories of his shizun having such startlingly extensive knowledge before that event.

What happens then depends on when this takes place: if it’s post-canon, he probably corners SQH to ask, and is smug about threatening him, then cradles the knowledge he receives close to his chest. Whether he brings this to his shizun is hard to tell, but he’d definitely carry himself with a light, happy air. Knowing that his shizun has always been kind to him and always loved him is simply euphoric. SQQ might notice him acting different and ask him about it, which might lead to a conversation—where SQQ is terrified at first, but relieved and simply relaxed by the end. He truly doesn’t mind being Shen Qingqiu and living what is technically a lie, but it’s… lovely to let his guard down a little around his husband, even if by this point “Shen Qingqiu” is no longer a mask he has to hide behind.

(Being post-canon is also fun because binghe can think back to the mausoleum and go “wow. maybe this should have been obvious.”)

Alternatively, I LOVE the idea that this happens earlier, during the 5 years where SQQ is dead. Rather than excitement and giddiness at solving a puzzle and figuring out more about his beloved, Binghe feels only grief and a slow horror as the pieces fall into place.

Maybe he still doesn’t know why his shizun pushed him into the abyss, but if none of the abuse he suffered was actually at his hands, if shizun truly was only ever kind to him… at the least he can begin to understand why his shizun might have sacrificed himself for him.

When he corners SQH this time, it’s with real anger, laced with fear and regret. SQH’s panicked answers give him enough information to piece together that SQQ likely didn’t have a choice in pushing him into the abyss.

So he wallows. His beloved never once tried to hurt him, was always kind to him and protected him. Likely knew he would escape the abyss alive. And he repaid that with threats and coercion, and drove his shizun to his death.

Years later, when he is in a dream and suddenly realises that his shizun is real, he doesn’t slowly smirk and begin to plot. He instead falls to his knees, gripping tightly to his shizun’s clothing and sobbing—much to SQQ’s confusion. But, still slightly numb with the whiplash of being kissed clumsily without warning and then suddenly cried on by a man he’s convinced is going to kill him, all SQQ can do is gently pat his disciple’s head.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Clear ups and headcanons on the Big Three Kids + alternative subcultures(by an alternative person who's autistic and has Pjo as a lifelong special interest)

Nico isn't emo.No i'm not joking,he's too optimistic to be emo and i'm not joking on that explanation either because once you stop taking his edgy front at face value,you see he's actually a very hopeful and soft boy.Nico is goth-Dark aesthetic,dower attitude and macabe traits heavily dealing with death and the darker supernatural

Hazel is goth too as an even grimer child of death and there's nothing more gothic than dying and getting ressurected to haunt your own narrative.Hazel shows a preference for light femininity so she would most likely be pastel goth specifically if she took up the aesthetic

Percy is the ultimate punk and it has nothing do with vague mentions of him skateboarding.Percy is punk because he fufills every requirement for being part of punk culture-He's a gender nonconformist who does direct action against a corrupt system as his entire motivation as a hero,hates the rich and talks shit to authority figures,performs activism in both his worlds,grew up a bully beater so hardcore he got kicked out 6 schools by 12,an intersectionalist that looks out for all his fellow minorities including the 'villains' of the franchise that got ropped into it against their will and even took in Nico and Hazel as his younger siblings and pseudo-kids for a double whammy as a huge part of punk is children's rights,textually an anarchist('the sea does not like to be restrained'),literally psychologically incapable of selling out as confirmed in a Tkc crossover short story and implied to listen punk music on multiple occasions.And sorry but Percy'd never be into grunge-It's too boring aesthetic for him and grunge as a music genre isn't Percy-coded at all and the only reason it's said to be is he's a 2000s kid and people are basic.Percy gives solarpunk and metalhead

Hazel is canonically punk for the same reasons Percy thanks how alike they are but also an additional reason is she is canonically darkskin black and punk culture is black culture as we created it.Percy is afrolatino-coded so he should be potrayed as such in punk!Percy or else you loose a big chunk of what makes him so punk and Nico may've been described as white but nothing should stop you from potraying him as black too as it's better writing for all three of the Dead Sea Siblings to be black and black Nico makes sense as he's got a lot in common with 'the black sunshine softboy who's also a little shit' characters(Gus Porter from The Owl House is just Nico di Angelo as an animated character down to his design tbh).Nico's physically disabled as he canonically has chronic fatigue and probs would develop chronic pain at this point so combined with his closeness to Percy and Hazel he realistically would go goth punk

Also not joking again:Percy is the My Chemical Romance obsessed one,not Nico.He's a millenial from New York with undiagnosed autism that was bullied at his schools with no friends and transfem bigender so Mcr is Percy-coded and he grew up on it along with Korn and Paramore for an alt trifecta.He introduced Nico and Hazel to it as bonding and punk mentorship and refuses to let them go to Hot Topic or even hear about it in favor of diy lessons and family thrift store trips with Sally.They still love Domo though(including Percy when i say this ofc)so that's how they get their Domo goods

Thalia is explicitly goth punk.Her style is described as a mix between the two,Green Day is a goth punk band and her attitude and actions match up the ideals of goth punk people,including that like Percy,she is gnc but in the opposite direction-She's a girl but masculine presenting and uncomfortable in traditional femininity.There's some pretty good hints that tie to trans lesbian Thalia even without her being butch and with her being black now it all comes together WITH an even better addition that there's a black version of Riot Grrrls called Sista Grrrls(Riot Grrrl for those who don't know is lesbian feminist punks and music)that Thalia would absolutely be one of,especially with the similarities between The Hunters and Riot Grrrls

Percy harrasses Poseidon for money for Nico's mobility aids and chronic pain meds,Hazel collects Blythe dolls and mixed media is her favorite artform to do and she runs a supernatural based bussiness website her brothers help her out on,Thalia cooks cosmic brownie edibles and Sally and the Dead Sea Siblings run a family bussiness called 'Familia Jackson Beach Shack' and Sally put the ball in the court of Percy going solarpunk with her love for the sea she passed down to him manifesting in a deep care for enviormentalism

Piercings:Percy has an eyebrow piercing,forward helix on both ears,a spider bite and a tongue ring,Nico has angel bites,a septum and snugs,Hazel has stacked lobels,double cheeks and a pink nose ring and Thalia has a nose ring,snake bites,ear gagues and an eyebrow piercing on the the opposite side of Percy's.Percy did Nico and Hazel's piercings for them and Thalia did her own and had them paper clip lookin' earrings in Ttc

Hair:Percy has long locs and his gray streak faded to white and he dyes his hair the mermaidcore style,Nico had an afro he occasionally put in afropuffs or an afro ponytail until he turned 17 and now he has slightly past the shoulder dreads with a loose bun in the back,Hazel is just like Percy yet again with a different hairstyle in each book as she had star-shaped afropuffs in Son,cornrows in Moa,twists in Hoh,sisterlocks in Boo and butterfly locs onwards and Thalia started with bantu knots before upgrading to an afrohawk

Perce has the caution tape on this bedroom door 2000s older brother requirement,Nico and Hazel attend the Special Ed school Percy was supposed to but melted down so badly over when he overheard Sally planning it when he was 9 she never brought it up again and he convinced them to go out of remorse and grief at what could've been and Nico is known as the outspoken activist nerd boy(affectionate)and Hazel is the IT Girl everybody loves and looks up to for her self-love of her weirdness and helping others feel the same and Thalia likes hanging out in abandoned places but never on her own as it brings up bad memories and rather takes Reyna with her so they can do it as dates to reclaim it and show her how much she loves her enough to trust her with that

Percy takes his siblings/kids to basement/underground shows and charity/community service on the regular and protests/riots too once they get old enough and they're all big into video games but only play secondhand,indie and free games on anti-capitalist principal.Their game nights go hard and they do graffiti and skatepark visits are every other day and Percy's sporting lipstick and eyeliner tears whenever he feels up for doing his makeup,either black or glittery blue(for both)and Nico looked up tutorials for tradgoth makeup to do and Hazel came up with pastel punk makeup styles all on her own to test her artistic ability and as a baby transfem confidence boost.Not an alt thing but it's very important to me they also got to the local cat cafe often and are the only reason it's still in bussiness🙏🏼

Thalia keeps things secret not because she wants privacy but because so many things she does break multiple realms' laws and she's got a gnarly tattoo sleeve.She's the loose canon fanon thinks Percy is and Percy still lives at home with Sally but before that,he revolutionized the greco-roman mythos world after graduating from Goode High,a year after Hoo and it lasted 4 years in 4 books in the sequel to it Tales of Dead Seas aka Tods

And Percy is heavy on sharks while Nico is batkin and Hazel has catlike aspects as a side effect of her ressurection and Thalia developed an unnervingly sturdy body structure from being a tree.Percy and Hazel are real into energy drinks and Nico perfers weird flavor sodas and Thalia loves crushing cans on her head after downing the whole thing and burping as long as she can

Percy is also 'I'm Just Your Problem' from Adventure Time-coded but the Ashe cover specifically and Hazel has a pair of pink skull headphones she's always wearing to listen to her authentic Lo-Fi Beats(read:by black artists),breakcore and nu metal songs and writes them in her digital diary too and Nico curiously enough enjoys trappunk the most.Thalia's been mistaken for Edith Victoria so many times she's started lying and saying she is her for the bit

And if i said Hobie Brown is Percy-coded?I'd be objectively right

Also i just wanna say as the send-off:Normie/'Prep' Jason's not real.That's an entire black biracial man who's character was outgrowing his militaristic and golden child upbringing to befriend queer people and poc and definitely has wolf/werewolf therian shit going on seeing as he was raised by Lupa herself and is only not autistic and transmasc if you're illiterate.Jason's not punk but he follows the beliefs and listens to indie pop and dad rock and dresses like a faggy 80s horror movie jock and eats whatever weird food combo he can get his hands on on impulse and deep dives into lost media and has a lightning bolt fade and studed ears.Jason's not punk but he's a weirdo and a freak and he rides for and with us so we(Dead Sea Siblings + Thalia + irl alts)ride for and with him

[irisintheafterglow]

OKAY A FELLOW SWIFTY I SEE

Okay here me out I need to express this with another SWIFTY

ALL THE GIRLS YOU LOVED BEFORE IS SO GOJO X READER CODED!!

Gege confirmed gojo was canon a player right??

He’s all about fuckboy life but THEN then he meets you and is so inlove he becomes so domestic and just <333

I NEEDED TO SHARE THIS WITH ANOTHER SWOFTY FOR YEARS OKAY THANKS BYE

every dead end street led you straight to me

wc: 2.1k

cw/tags: established relationship, first meeting, creepy guy at a club but he doesn't get very far because of unofficial bodyguard™ satoru, mostly just fluff and taylor references, little fun surprise at the very end in case it wasn't tooth-rotting enough

note: hi anon!!! first off, i'm so sorry this took so long to complete; i literally love aotgylb and so i was a little stumped for how to write this because it's just,,,,so him. i love him. i love taylor. i hope you love this lol. enjoy!!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

“I really wish I found you sooner.”

“How so?”

“I wouldn’t have needed all that dumb shit with other girls if I knew you were waiting for me. All the lame fights, feeling alone even when I wake up next to someone. That dumb shit.”

“Who said I wasn’t doing dumb shit too?” You look at him with a sleepy smile, warm despite the biting chill of the early morning air. "You couldn't fathom how many boys I was crying in the bathroom about."

"Do you remember their names?"

"Of course not." While you press against the personal heater that is your boyfriend, the long-awaited sunlight starts to touch the very tips of the mountains before you. “You remember my first boyfriend, don’t you?”

“Mmm, yeah. The one from Kyoto that dropped out ‘cause he couldn’t stand being weaker than his partner,” he recalls. “He’s also the ugliest of your exes; it’s hard to forget him when I almost exorcized him before I met you.” You burst out laughing at the memory and a puff of your breath appears in front of your face. Satoru follows suit, exhaling a long breath and making boyish dragon noises. “See, aren’t I so much better?”

“Yes love, no one can compete with your dragon impressions,” you tease. With a shiver, you wrap your coat tighter around your body. “I won’t lie, though. My ass is freezing.”

“I was just about to say that,” he agrees, shifting uncomfortably on the stone bench. Even with the several layers of thermal long sleeves, jackets, and gloves, the winter weather seemed adamant on giving you frostbite. “Remind me to never suggest a sunrise hike ever again.” 

“But isn’t it romantic? Freezing our asses off and shit-talking our exes?” 

“I would not enjoy this if I was with anyone else,” he concludes. “That’s all I’ll say about that.”

“Fine, then go back to that other thing, the one about finding me sooner.” 

“Oh, that?” He pauses for a moment, jutting his lips to the side in deep thought. Spots of gold start to catch on his bright white hair, strikingly similar to the snow crunching under your boots. “I was just thinking how much time I wouldn’t have wasted if I simply found you sooner.”

“What do you mean, ‘found me?’” 

“I was searching for someone, you know, and I didn’t know what I wanted until I met you.” The corner of his mouth quirks as a memory pops into his mind. “Even though you hated me.”

“I did not hate you,” you argue in vain since you did, in fact, hate him when you first met him. In need of a new partner after your boyfriend (the ugly one, Satoru notes) fell ill the night before a mission, you considered feigning sickness yourself when you saw who the higher ups assigned. It was easier, logistically, to slap on the most powerful asset they had on a mission where a sorcerer dropped out, but it didn’t make him any less annoying when he picked you up at the airport. It was before the days of his current blindfold, when he wrapped strips of white linen over his eyes during the times he opted for no sunglasses. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t unnerve you, the way he navigated through the airport crowds as if his vision wasn’t impeded in the slightest. The aura that he emanated was intimidating and one of sheer power, but the goofy smile and melodic voice contradicted any assumptions you made about the strongest being alive. 

“Gojo Satoru?”

“That’s me. I like it when you say my name,” he drawls and you make a quiet gagging noise in your throat. 

“Please don’t ever say that again,” you say, walking in a random direction where you hope the driver is parked. To your embarrassment, you turn around to see him standing in the same spot, a smug grin on his face and a thumb pointing in the opposite direction. “I thought I read the lot was this way,” you mutter in irritation while he falls into step next to you. 

“Oh, it was,” he affirms and you stop mid-stride. The shit-eating expression on his face only grows wider when he senses your increasing annoyance. “But there’s a dango stand over here and you look like you could use a snack.” He was right, of course, but you didn’t admit it until much later in your relationship. The first twelve hours with him were painfully awkward, to say the least. You shoved dango in your mouth to avoid answering any questions about yourself and stared out the dark window of the car while he snuck glances at you in the backseat. After dropping your stuff at the hotel and slipping into nicer clothes, you walk out onto the crowded street to find Satoru waiting in a sleek-looking suit that would have the girls back home fainting on the spot. He opens the door with a flirty remark that you immediately tune out and you recheck the Cursed Tools in your clutch while he slides into the seat beside you. 

“You know your role?” 

“I’m a wealthy businessman gunning for the weapon with the blue handle,” he states confidently.

“Green handle, not blue.”

“What’s the difference?”

“One of them has an eons-old Curse stuffed into its hilt…and the other is blue.” He makes a small noise of amusement in his throat and you feel yourself relax a little bit more. “I’ll camp out at the bar and wait for the owner to make a move. Apparently, he’s the type to bite pretty easily if he sees something good-looking and alone. When he’s distracted, you grab the weapon. Got it?”

“Clear as crystal,” he says, swiping his tongue over his top lip absentmindedly. A serious look washes over his face, something in his head making his eyebrows draw together. “What if the guy starts getting handsy with you?”

“I’ll…handle it,” you reply slowly, slightly confused as to why he cares. “Just get the weapon, Gojo. You can stall or kill time however you want before that, but we don’t have the luxury of being able to make a mess.”

“Easier said than done,” he says quietly, “So, no promises.” 

It turned out that making messes was simply a part of Satoru’s daily routine. Perched on a bar stool and barely nursing a weak drink, you clearly saw what his idea of killing time was. Lean arms stretched over the back of an overstuffed corner booth in a corner of the club, pulling several nice-looking women into his side while they giggled in his lap. He’d swapped the strips of linen for an expensive pair of sunglasses and he peered over the rim at regular intervals to keep an eye on you. It made your heart pang just a little bit, seeing him easily attract girls to him like a magnet in a paper clip factory. There was no doubt that Gojo Satoru was attractive, yet every doubt existed in your mind as to whether you would ever have a chance with him. You didn’t mean to look so mopey and sad at the counter, but it seems to play to your advantage when the owner of the weapon creeps over with a sinister smile on his face. 

“Hello, dear,” he purrs and it takes all of your willpower not to slap him for looking at you like a pretty thing. “Nothing is sadder than a beauty at the bar, all alone.”

“And what were you going to do about it?” You drop the volume of your voice to an enticing volume, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

“Inject a bit more excitement into your evening,” he replies daringly and the insinuation makes you nauseous. “That man, with the glasses? He broke your heart?” He leans on your shoulder and looks in the direction of your partner, the one who was supposed to be grabbing the weapon while you were busy being ogled by this narcissist. “You need to watch out for men like him, throwing around money and women like they’re of no value. Both have value. You have value.” Great, you groan in your head, he’s gross and a hypocrite, too.

“I wouldn’t say broke it,” you murmur mysteriously. “More like, doesn’t deserve it.”

“You’re feisty,” he observes. “I’m incredibly attracted to it.” Shit. On pure instinct, you feel your Cursed Energy flare up as his hand roams dangerously close to your thigh, sliding down your arm with a clammy palm. Despite not being a sorcerer, you know he feels the energy shift when his eyes dart up to yours not with lust, but suspicion. By some stupid twist of Fate, you’d blown your own cover. The weapon owner’s hand suddenly tightens around your wrist, chaining you to the bar counter. 

“Let go of me,” you order, completely rid of the stupidly airy voice and naive smiles. 

“What did you just–”

“My love, we’re leaving.” Elegant fingers effortlessly pry the man’s hand from your skin and toss them aside like garbage. You find your coat gently draped around your shoulders, and only then does he guide you up and away from the bar, with the weapon owner still gawking in his stool. Somewhere between your Cursed Energy flaring and the man grabbing your wrist, Satoru must have left his posse of gorgeous women to pull you out of your present situation. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you mutter, slightly embarrassed that he had to come in and save you. “Thanks for doing that, even though you had to leave your girlfriends.” 

“Of course. They never mean anything to me, nor do I mean anything to them,” he replies and it sounds genuine, without any sort of mockery or indication that he was holding it above your head. With one arm still wrapped around your shoulders, he calls the valet to retrieve the car and you find that you don’t mind him holding you close. “Nice play with the energy flare-up, by the way. That was really smart.”

“What do you mean?”

“Smoking out the weapon’s energy signature by making it butt against your own?” He shakes his head in disbelief, city lights catching in the lenses of his glasses. “Absolute genius.” 

“I…didn’t mean to do that,” you admit and he peers at you out of the corner of his vision. You didn’t know it yet, but to him, you looked prettier than any of the women he was surrounded by inside the club. “It was an accidental reflex when the guy went for my leg.”

“Want me to kill him?” You chuckle, but it dies away when you see the cold expression on his face, nothing like the playful and warm persona you’d just been speaking to. “Say the word and I’ll blow the place to pieces.”

“We’re not supposed to make a mess, remember?” 

“And I said no promises, remember?” He helps you into the passenger’s seat with a gentlemanly hand, shutting it after you before settling into the driver’s seat. “Either way, I got the weapon. It was in the guy’s pocket, not in the safe like we thought it would be. But, more importantly, you got out of that creep’s vicinity.” 

“I appreciate you looking out for me.”

“Anytime, pretty.”

“Don’t call me that,” you say firmly and he looks at you curiously. “What?”

“Why not?”

“I’m not interested in being your arm candy; I’m not that type of person.” He pauses for several long moments, stuck in deep thought.

“I didn’t realize I was the type of person to have arm candy,” he states quietly, like it was an epiphany as he pulled away from the club’s valet curb. 

“Something must be wrong with one of your Six Eyes, then, if you truly believe that,” you chuckle, trying to make the mood a little lighter. Yet, he’s still staring straight ahead with a frown on his face and a draw between his eyebrows. It was unsettling, to say the least. “Hey, I really didn’t mean any offense–”

“Let me try.”

“What?”

“Let me try,” he repeats with absolute determination. The streetlight casts his face in a dangerous shade of red.

“Try…what?” 

“To win you over. Teach you what forever feels like,” he answers and your head feels like it’s been submerged underwater, all noises suddenly becoming muddy and irrelevant. “Show you that I don’t think you’re just eye candy.” 

“What the hell are you playing at, Gojo?”

“I’m just tryin’ to show you that I’m not the playboy you have in your head,” he argues and it makes your cheeks heat. “Let me try. If I fail, I’ll go bald or something. Sorcerer's honor.” You burst out laughing, shaking your head in disbelief but feeling comfortable enough to take him up on the offer. Now, a few years and zero bald heads later, you were freezing your ass off with the man of your dreams on a mountain at six in the morning. 

Somehow, you both felt like you’d won the bet when he pulled out that box from his pocket and got down on one knee. 

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[killerpancakeburger]

The wizard is dead

Pairing: Rolan x f!Reader/Tav ("She" is used to refer to the Reader twice)

Summary: You didn’t expect to end the party celebrating Ketheric's final death at the Last Light Inn making out with a certain wizard. And least of all you certainly weren't expecting to meet him again in Baldur's Gate...

Tags: Enemies to lovers speedrun, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, protective! Tav, insecure! Tav, Astarion ships it and never stfu.

Warnings: swearing, alcohol mention, canon violence and death, spoilers for Acts 2 and 3 obvsly.

A/N: Making Rolan blush as much as possible. If you too felt murderous upon seeing his bruises, this is the fic for you!

“...up. Get up. Urgh. Get the fuck up.”

An exasperated, familiar voice pierced progressively the depths of your sleep. Didn’t mean you wanted to wake up, though. You felt deliciously drowsy and ready to plunge right back into the pit of slumber.

You grumbled in protest in response to the voice and submerged your head with your pillow.

The voice emitted a grunt of aggravation following your shenanigans. 

“I can’t believe Karlack put up with this every morning…”

Something suddenly started to shove you repeatedly at waist level, and you identified the something as a foot.

You rolled over to escape, in vain.

“Go away, Astarion”, you whined, muffled by your pillow.

“Oh! She talks!” commented the vampire sarcastically. “Maybe now she will deign to join us for breakfast!”

“Why are you even here?”, you lamented. “Where’s Karlach? I want Karlach.”

It was your morning ritual since your hellish friend recovered her ability to touch without burning. She’d wake you up with a bones-crushing hug, some physical affection welcomed by both of you. In comparison to her, Astarion was cold and sharp, bodily and verbally. 

“I wanted to be the first to congratulate you, darling.”

He wasn’t making any effort to conceal the enjoyment in his voice, and a bad feeling arose within you, wondering what could amuse him so early in the morning. Suffice to say, Astarion was not a morning person. 

Thankfully, he kept talking without needing to ask him to.

“So congratulations for shagging the wizard last night! It was the most entertaining spectacle of the party, no doubt.”

“Gale…?” You asked, filled with confusion. You enjoyed his company but neither of you ever showed interest of the romantic… or sexual… sort in the other.

“Ugh”, sighed exaggeratedly Astarion, like it was the dumbest thing he’s ever heard in two hundred years, “no, not Gale.” The name sounded like an insult. You could hear the spawn roll his eyes.

“The stuck-up tiefling! The wannabe apprentice! What was his name again…?”

All torpor is abruptly ejected from your body with the power of a cannonball. You sit up brutally, wound up like a bowstring. 

“Rolan!?” The name erupted from your mouth way louder than you intended. Luckily, Astarion didn’t pay attention as he slammed his fist against his palm in satisfaction. 

“Yes! That haughty little… Anyway! You two gave the Inn one hell of a show, making out in front of everybody. I have to thank you for that, really, it was getting sooo boring.”

He was looking at you with the content smile of a cat who caught the mouse. You stared back with incredulity, dumbfounded. 

“You’re lying.”

“Why, darling, I would never”, he retorted smugly, putting a hand on his chest with pretended affliction, like he was wounded by your accusation. 

You wanted to stand your ground and believe that he was lying, but something in his smugness, more assured than when he was deceiving people, told you that he wasn’t.

“The whole Inn saw you, so you could ask anyone for confirmation, really. They all cheered by the way. Obviously his siblings were the loudest of the bunch…”

You covered your ears in denial. Never again you would drink that much.

“You even managed to make him dance. Well, dragged him there, really. Details. He had two left feet, so that was… endearing.”

He pronounced “endearing” the same way he called you naive that one time, and you knew that he held himself back from using a more… colorful adjective.

“Shut up”, you pleaded with Astarion. “I don’t want to hear anything more.”

He chuckled with derision. 

“Me shutting up won’t change reality, dear.”

“What are you guys doing?”

Karlach’s booming voice startled you. Astarion, on the contrary, greeted her appearance with a mischievous smile, seeing another occasion to poke fun at you.

“We were just remembering yesterday night and the boldness of our heartbreaker of a leader. It was fun, wasn’t it Karlach?”

“Oh yeah!” immediately agreed the tiefling, completely missing the horror on your face and your silent plea to not add to Astarion’s pestering. “You guys were really going at it. Didn’t see it coming but what matters is that you’re happy.”

A radiant and sincere smile was adorning her lips. You covered your blushing face in embarrassment, grunting in shame and frustration with yourself.

“Karlach, if I ever drink this much again, just knock me out.”

“I mean, if you’re sure… but there’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know. Everyone is very supportive of you both.” she added, unsure of why you looked so down. 

“You don’t understand”, you whined.

As she was about to ask for explanations, the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted your conversation. All three of you turned your gaze to Wyll, who had a tense smile - or grimace, you weren’t sure - on his face, and seemed like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

“Ahrem. Lae’zel wanted me to let you know that if you don’t show up in the next three seconds, she would add you to the menu.”

Suddenly all thoughts of yesterday evening were forgotten as you three scrambled towards the campfire.

⚡⚡⚡

As your little band resumed their journey towards Baldur’s Gate, you resolved to use that time to put order in your memories from last evening and in your relationship with Rolan. 

Your memories were gradually resurfacing, hand in hand with a pounding headache. 

Despite Astarion and Karlach’s statements, you still couldn’t believe that you kissed Rolan. Not that the idea repulsed you - far from it, actually. The man was pretty, and he was even prettier when he wasn’t busy yelling at you. However, the idea that he let you put your lips anywhere on him was laughable. 

You proceeded to rewind all your memories with the self-assured wizard, trying to find the key to decipher what was an enigma to you. 

Truth be told, you didn’t remember much from your first meeting in the Grove. Except for his shooting match with Lia, which was impossible to miss once inside the shelter, you remembered him vaguely as a pompous character whose every statement dripped with snobbishness and bravado, so much that it felt like he was trying to convince himself rather than his audience. Despite the airs he was giving himself, you caught him later during the tiefling party putting on a magic show simply to please his siblings, and the heartwarming display disconcerted you as much as it amused you. 

The moment when you met him again in the Last Light Inn, on the other hand, was burned into your memory. He had once again caught your attention by his yelling. However, as you approached out of concern for the kids tending to the bar, the yelling quickly turned on you. You were ready to let it go - after all, if you weren’t in such a hurry to get rid of the parasite inside your head, you too would have drowned your sorrows in alcohol and lashed out at well-meaning strangers - until he accused you of being responsible for his siblings’ kidnapping by the cultists. 

All your restraint snapped at those words, like a rubber band too stretched. 

How did he dare? After everything you’ve done, after all the shit you’ve been through - and were still going through. You weren’t even expecting any thanks, you just wanted to be left alone. As if you malevolently sneaked inside Cal and Lia’s mind to trick them into doing your bidding. As if they weren’t both adults capable of making their own decisions.

A little voice in the back of your head whispered that he was blaming you because he was blaming himself, that rejecting the fault on someone else was the only way he found to contain the pain and guilt that were threatening to engulf him, but you ignored it. Understanding his reasons didn’t make you a doormat.

Karlach had to bodily restrain you as you were about to punch him in the face.

“Then stop whining and do something about it yourself, since I only make things worse.” you spat with as much venom you muster, leaving the Inn to find a training dummy to take out your vexation on. His shouts still reached you though.

“Oh, I will! I don’t need your help, and I don’t need your pity!”

You had almost forgotten the incident until you stumbled upon Rolan on your way to Moonrise, in the middle of the shadows. He was largely outnumbered and doomed to a certain death if your group didn’t happen to pass this way completely randomly. 

Once the shadows were taken care of, you pinched the bridge of your nose in bewilderment. Did he have a deathwish or something?

“Gods damn it all. I can do nothing right - not a damn thing.”

His shoulders were shaking in frustration and anger. However, something in the tone of his voice made you feel quite different from the last time you met him. You weren’t irritated, no. You felt… sorrow. For him. Thankfully, he wasn’t aware of your emotions, keeping his eyes on the ground, stubbornly refusing to meet your gaze.

He was more furious at himself than at you this time. There was also a dose of embarrassment in the mix, after failing to rescue his siblings on his own. This display of vulnerability was the antipodes of his usual self-assured behavior, to such an extent that you wondered if the shadows were making you hear things. 

“Please tell me you weren’t looking for Moonrise”, escaped your mouth before you could stop it, realizing that he very probably wouldn’t be any happier to see you now than last time.

He snapped back immediately - of course he did.

“So what if I was? Cal and Lia could be there!”

You were about to retort that getting himself killed on the way there would help no one, Cal and Lia least of all, before the last thing you told him suddenly came back to you. A cold shiver ran down your back, as you wondered with horror if he was here because of your words. You never expected him to take your remark seriously. In the heat of the moment, you had wanted to hurt him, but you had never intended to send him to die alone in those cursed lands. Unease pooled in your stomach and a sharp pang of guilt twisted your heart. You gritted your teeth in frustration. Rolan kept ranting, oblivious to your inner turmoil, which was probably for the best.

“Instead I found myself cornered by shadow-fiends and in need of rescue. From you, of all bloody people.”

That last remark was meant as a jab at you, however it failed at riling you up. How could it have, when his voice trembled like he was about to shed tears? He was finally looking at you, and the heartfelt dejection painted on his features made you want to hold him in your arms more than anything else. You quickly pushed that urge aside, though - there was no doubt in your mind that your attempt at comfort would be unwelcome, to say the least. You probably wouldn’t like it either if the roles were reversed. You two weren’t close enough for this.

Nonetheless, you tried to bring him solace through your words, keeping your tone as neutral as possible:

“You were trying to help your family - you’re too hard on yourself.”

But your efforts seemed to have the opposite effect, as he retorted in an uncharastically acerbic tone:

“Or not hard enough.”

Both his words and his timber made a shiver of dread run through you. There was something terribly final in them, that made you reconsider your thoughts about him having a death wish.

But you were nothing to him, except an hindrance, and as he bid you farewell and walked away, you simply watched him, feeling bitterly powerless, wishing that he at least made it back safely to the Last Light Inn.

Following the defeat of Ketheric Thorm and the eradication of the shadow curse, Jaheira and the Harpers had organized a celebration at the Last Light Inn the night before your departure for Baldur’s Gate. The respite was welcome for your whole party. You really needed a break before taking up the arms against two more gods. Alcohol flew freely. Former prisoners were reuniting with their loved ones. Fighters numbed their wounds and the deceased’s sacrifice was honored. 

As part of the acclaimed saviors, you were making your mandatory runs around the inn before you could slip away to a quiet and peaceful corner. It was during that errand that, once again, you walked in on Rolan and his siblings screaming at each other. You sighed, passing a hand over your tired face, somehow knowing that it would be up to you, once again, to play mediator. 

You downed your drink and approached, waiting for your opportunity to interfere into the conversation. Noticing an opening, you slipped innocently, nose in your tankard:

“Rolan was in a bad state without the two of you.”

The swiftness at which the situation defused itself would have almost made you chuckle if it hadn’t been that serious. Hearing Rolan state that his struggle didn’t matter made you frown but you bit your tongue. Truly that man had serious insecurity issues under all that boasting. But just like in the shadows, it was none of your business.

Having played your role, you mumbled a “don’t mention it” to Cal who was thanking you, and took your leave. Or at least you had started to, until Rolan’s voice interrupted you.

“Wait.”

You turned around out of curiosity, an inquisitive eyebrow raised, not sure if you were the one being addressed. Rolan was staring at you right into your eyes, erasing your previous doubt. Gods, had his yellow gaze always been that hard to hold? 

As soon as he saw he had your attention, he started talking. And what he had to say took you completely aback.

“I’ve lashed out at you, drunkenly and otherwise, and you helped anyway.”

You held back from clarifying that you saved him from the shadows because he happened to be in the way. And that you saved Cal and Lia because… they were in the way too. You were gonna release the Moontower’s prisoners anyway, that Rolan’s siblings had been part of them was just a coincidence. However this little speech seemed to cost Rolan, which was understandable, so you kept your mouth shut.

“You didn’t deserve that - I’m sorry. And thank you.”

You opened your eyes wide - receiving an apology wasn’t on your todo list today. Least of all from someone as proud as Rolan. Even more mind-bending, he gave you a genuine smile. You were so focused on his face that it didn’t occur to you to refuse the money he offered.

Later in the night, as you were still processing his unhoped for change of demeanor, and were a fair bit tipsy, you ended up passing him a new bottle of Arabellan Dry - who gave it to you? Who told you it was Rolan’s favorite’s wine? And that you should give it to him? You had no idea. Not noticing the wine at first, he teased you:

“I’ve thanked you once already. Don’t be greedy.”

Between his taunting words, his open smile, his beautiful eyes sparkling with mirth, and the realization that he was laughing with you, something inside you snapped. Suddenly you had butterflies in your stomach, weakness in your knees, and he looked like the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. You laughed heartily, before smiling frankly, noting that he looked - pleasantly? - surprised at your reaction, not expecting an audience that easy to entertain. 

You remembered talking back to him, settling yourself in a spot nearby, sharing that bottle… But for the life of you, you couldn’t remember that pretended kiss. Did you actually manage to make him blush during the night or was it just the wine?

After reflecting over everything, you still felt as much - if not more - mortified. There was no way Rolan felt happy about making a spectacle of himself in front of so many people - and in front of his siblings, least of all. Those two must have had a field day deriding their eldest. As for the kiss, it must have been a result of the alcohol and the proximity. You didn’t get a lot of opportunities for… physical affection since the beginning of your tadpole adventure, and you could easily imagine that Rolan must not have been getting a lot of action either, between fleeing the Grove, dealing with the cultists, losing his siblings and enduring the shadow curse. 

You could only imagine that after such a disaster, Rolan must be back to hating you. 

You sighed deeply, to the point of attracting the questioning looks of some of your companions walking by your side, before shaking your head in resolve. It was just one, regrettable evening. As long as you didn’t run into Rolan again, you could put it behind you. And what were the chances of coming across him in Baldur’s Gate anyway? 

⚡⚡⚡

High, apparently. Or at least high enough to make you eat your words.

Your merry band had just crossed the doors of some fancy magic shop that took up residence in a lavish tower. You were originally there to confront the man who had put a price on Aylin’s head. Whatever his intentions were with her, they couldn’t be good. Adding wizards’ characteristic hubris and what Ketheric Thorn previously inflicted to the Aasimar together, you quickly came to the conclusion that he sought to cage her and thereby attain immortality. Your purpose was therefore simple: explain in no uncertain terms to Ramazith’s tower’s new owner that he could - should -  kiss goodbye his delusions of eternal life, and, if he proved to be too stubborn to be reasoned with, deal with him in such a way that he wouldn’t be an issue anymore for your winged friend. 

However all Selune’s daughter-related considerations went out the window when you laid eyes upon the shopkeeper at the counter. Somehow the tiefling who had haunted your thoughts for weeks and made you recoil in embarrassment at night, when you were left alone with yourself, forced to cope with the memories of your last meeting, was standing right in front of you. Worse, he noticed you, and the natural blush of his infernal skin miserably failed to hide the vivid flush of his cheeks. Like his reflection in a mirror, you could distinctly feel your own face blaze fiercely. 

It lasted a minute or an eternity, you had no idea, until you were brutally ejected from your trance at the view of the bruises covering his face. Rolan had been so severely pummeled that purple had become the prevailing color on his visage. Ice-cold, overpowering fury spread across your veins and possessed you to swiftly close the gap between the two of you. 

Consumed by anger, you raised a hand to graze his tumefied skin. 

“Who did this to you? I’ll fucking kill them.”

You felt a slight pang of remorse upon seeing him struggle to not back away from you after you charged at him like a ram. His tail had started to sway wildly at your approach. 

However Rolan rapidly proceeded to regain his composure, as he always did. Coughing in his fist - maybe a desperate attempt to hide his still glowingly red cheeks, or simply a way to offer himself a moment to get a grip -, he answered you, way too nonchalantly for your taste. 

“Nothing- ahrem… nothing for you to worry about.”

His reply stinged. Bitterly. After all that you’ve been through together, he still didn’t trust you. Or he was still resolutely convinced that he had to endure every tribulation alone - you sincerely doubted that Lia and Cal wouldn’t have thrown a fit upon his appearance. 

You didn’t know which of those two possibilities hurt more. 

The righteous wrath inside you disappeared, like extinguished by a bucket of icy water, replaced by a chilling insight - it was utterly useless to fight for him when he wouldn’t stand up for himself. And, more importantly, if he didn’t consider you close enough to him to ask your help, then it was time for you to move on. 

“You suck at lying, you know that?” You felt obligated to point out.

As he was about to object, you continued.

“But you’re right. If you still don’t need my sanctimonious help, I’ll just go about my day. Sorry for the trouble.”

Immediately after spatting those words, you found your outburst childish, but you couldn’t take it back. You began to storm off, determined to fully focus on the wannabe-immortal wizard problem, but a clawed hand grabbing your forearm ended your departure.

“Wait-” 

You whirled around, losing more and more patience. 

“What.”

Rolan sighed, but not in a way that sounded like this was a chore to him. He sighed like one does to give themselves courage before overcoming adversity. The words had left his lips before he could even think them; before he could contemplate their effect on you. Being self-reliant and showing no weaknesses had become an automatic reflex forged by a life of survival. He couldn’t shrug it off overnight - but you were the first person who made him want to try.  

He then compelled himself to look you straight in the eye.

“Don’t lea- I mean, I didn’t mean to…Urgh… Gods damn it… it’s Lorroakan.”

You stared back at him, split between the newfound joy of him confiding in you, and the confusion of hearing his confession.

“Lorrowho?” You asked, slightly tilting your head in puzzlement.

 The name didn’t ring a bell for you, but according to your companions’ exasperated grunts in your back, it certainly did for them.

“The tower’s newest owner”, helpfully prompted Gale behind you. “So-called greatest wizard of the Sword Coast, aspiring to subjugate Dame Aylin, took our friend here as his apprentice?”

“Oooh! That guy!”, you exclaimed. “Well that’s perfect! We were going to kick his ass anyway!”

You could have announced to Rolan that you were planning to fight a dragon with your bare hands, he probably would have gazed at you the same way.

“By the way, Rolan, you can let go now”, you added with a pointed look towards his hand still squeezing your arm.

He let go like he got burned, cheeks reddening again, swore in hellish and apologized. You assured him it was fine. 

“Can you share anything that would help us take down Lorra… Larro… whatever-his-name-his?”

The tiefling straightened up, clearly in his element. 

“Mast- Lorroakan has four Myrmidons.”

He seemed about to carry on on the subject, but stopped in front of your confounded expression.

“Myrmiwhat?”

The apprentice wizard opened his mouth to start an informed lecture about the properties of Myrmidons, before closing it and pinching the bridge of his nose, frustrated by your ignorance.

“Nevermind, I can make this simple for you.”

Feeling insulted, you proceeded to join your hands and excessively flutter your eyelashes to mimic a swooning admirer. 

“Why, thank you Master Rolan! You are ever so generous to us simpletons!”

The aforenamed choked a bit at that, but you were not sure if it was in reaction to your ridiculous antics or to being called “master”.

“As I was saying, Myrmidons are very powerful elementals. You shouldn’t underestimate them.”

You acquiesced with a nod of your head before turning to your Party.

“Let’s get going then.”

“Should we not fetch the Asimaar?” inquired Astarion, observing his nails with detachment. “Not that I particularly care, but with how strongly this concerns her, she may come after us if we keep her out of this.”

You replied without missing a beat, having already pondered the question. 

“No, I want to spare her that.”

The Vampire Spawn let out one of those unhinged little laughs he had a knack for, blending contempt and incredulity. 

“I must have misheard you - spare her? The cutthroat demigod who mercilessly crushes her enemies under her boot? That’s who you want to spare?”

You had expected that kind of reaction, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.

“That’s not what I meant” you grunted, aggravated by the elf’s taunting. “Of course she can take care of herself. But just because she can, doesn’t mean she has to. Dealing with relentless creeps who get off on the idea of breaking you, body and spirit, it’s exhausting, speaking from experience. I couldn’t imagine doing it for centuries. We can provide her a brief respite. If she takes it the wrong way, I’ll deal with the fallout.”

Astarion shrugged, satisfied with your answer since it sheltered him from consequences. The others agreed with nods of the head.

Rolan gave you the directions to reach Lorroakan before adding, frowning:

“Be careful. He has a beastly temper.”

The recommendation made you snicker. Before the tiefling could take offense, you brought your face closer to his, lifting his chin with your index, a wolfish smile stretching your lips. 

“I highly doubt that sorry excuse for a wizard is in any way a beast. But fear not, pretty boy, I’ll show you what beastly really means.”

Whistles and sniggers could be heard from behind you, demonstrating the maturity of your traveling companions. Meanwhile Rolan’s face somehow managed to turn even redder than when you both met again moments ago, and his attempts to come up with a rebuttal resulted only in stuttering. 

Benevolently, you did not comment, careful to not overstep his boundaries too much, and changed the subject, rising an inquisitive eyebrow:

“Are you not coming with us?”

He cleared his throat to give himself a semblance of composure.

“I guess I should, if only to make sure you lot do not ravage the tower on your rampage.”

You smirked a little at his efforts to appear indifferent, but refrained from making any remark, content with his participation.

As you made your way towards your target, Astarion sneaked by your side, a mocking smile adorning his lips. You mentally braced yourself for the jibe that wouldn’t fail to come.

“I figured out why you didn’t want to bring Aylin on our little excursion, darling.”

“Oh really.” you replied with the most blasé tone you could muster.

Unfortunately, your lack of concern didn’t seem to deter your vampiric ally at all.

“You want to keep your prey for yourself. To be the one to slaughter the Master Wizard. You should have seen your face earlier when you threw a fit over Rolan’s bruises, I thought you were going to bite.”

“So what? Is that a problem?”

“Quite the opposite, really. I’m planning to revel in the show. Let’s hope for you that the little wizard is of the same mind, uh?” 

You told him to mind his own business and he just laughed. 

Your group crossed the magic portal, entering Lorroakan’s lavish office only to stumble upon the deplorable spectacle that was the supposed great wizard sadistically torturing his servant for his questionable experimentations. Thankfully, your noteworthy arrival put an end to the loathsome display as the red-haired wizard dismissed his domestic and his mechanical construction.

“I see no Nightsong. Surely you wouldn’t have entered my tower without the Nightsong in hand. Surely my worthless apprentice wouldn’t have allowed you to waste my time.”

That last remark made your blood boil as surely as it did earlier when you laid eyes upon Rolan’s contused face. You gritted your teeth, plastering on a fake smile, before giving the man a taste of his own scorn by ignoring him completely and ostensibly turning towards Rolan.

“Is that the pathetic excuse that serves as your mentor?”

The apprentice wizard spared a glance at Lorroakan who was suffocating with indignation before focusing on you.

“... Yes, he is.”

“Great! Would have been so awkward to kill the wrong guy!”

Bestowing your most bloodthirsty smile on your foe, you made a point to talk over his outraged diatribe.

“There’s only two things you should know, really. First : you will never get your hands on the Nightsong. Second : I’m going to kill you, and I’m going to enjoy it.” 

Having said your piece, you unsheathed your weapon as the wizard invoked his Myrmidons, and the battle began.

⚡⚡⚡

Standing over Lorroakan’s battered body, you made sure that he was in too much pain to ramble again. Rolan came to stand beside you, the shock on his face telling you that he had a hard time believing what he was seeing.

You looked at him inquisitively.

“Wanna do the honors?”, you suggested, referring to the final blow. 

As he remained motionless and speechless, you started to worry you had said the wrong thing, but suddenly his expression turned resolute and he nodded. 

You distanced yourself from the two wizards, not fancying getting caught in a spell’s blast. Rolan uttered his incantation with force - detono.

With a mixture of astonishment and awe, you watched Lorroakan’s body get hurled across the room and through the nearest window in a cacophony of shattering glass. You leaned through the destroyed window to glimpse at the mangled corpse before turning to Rolan with a low whistle.

“So much for not ravaging the tower, uh-”

You found yourself unable to finish your clever quip as your favorite tiefling grabbed you by the collar and crushed his lips against yours. The motion was brutal and clumsy, to the point that you briefly wondered if he was trying to kiss you or punch you in the lips… with his lips.

Barely leaving you enough time to reciprocate the gesture, Rolan withdrew, a wild look in eyes, panting slightly. Did he forget to breathe during…?

“You-”

“This is all your fault!”

You gaped at him in uncomfortable silence, immobile, truly at a loss for words. What in the nine hells did you do this time, again?

One hand released your clothing as Rolan covered half his face with it in consternation. 

“And to think I promised myself I wouldn’t lash out at you again… Do you see how I lose my composure in your presence? Every. Bloody. Time. It’s infuriating.” He sighed.

You crossed your arms, staring at his piercing yellow eyes.

“Riiight.” 

He had at least the tact to appear marginally embarrassed under your scrutinizing gaze.

“Not a day has passed since Last Light Inn where you weren’t on my mind.” he admitted, albeit begrudgingly, rubbing his neck in bashfulness, and unable to meet your eyes.

Your eyes widened at the confession. This was a surprise, although a pleasant one.

“You… you don’t hate me for it?”

It was his turn to stare in astonishment.

“For what…?”

“You made a spectacle of yourself in front of the whole Inn because of me…”

“Please, I’m not tone-deaf enough to not acknowledge my own responsibility in this. We both had… a lot… to drink.”

“Oh… Well, in that case… I’ve been thinking about you too. Since the Inn.”

It was only fair to come clean too after he made the first move, which must have definitely cost him and his pride.

“Oh.”

There you were, two blushing idiots staring at their own feet in embarrassment, not knowing what to do with yourselves. That is, until you remembered what started all of this, and you raised your head so suddenly Rolan got startled.

“We need to heal your face.”

He chuckled openly at that, but instead of taking offense, seeing him happy spread warmth in your chest.

“You should heal yourself first, ô mighty hero. You’re in way worse shape than I am.”

You frowned and grabbed his face to inspect his bruises closer.

“Being injured is second-nature for me. I don’t think you can say the same. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

He took hold of your hips in response. A derisive smile stretched his lips.

“What a poorly concealed way to get me to undress.”

“How dare you”, you protested, scandalized. “imply that my benevolence is anything but proper?”

“Maybe I wish it wasn’t.”

Before you could ask for clarification, he kissed you.

“Rolan…”

“Mmh…”

Again.

“I was serious about healing you…”

“Mh.”

And again.

You grabbed his robes and shoved him against the closest bookshelf in a drastic attempt to put some space between your bodies. The action didn’t seem to deter him at all, if anything it added fuel to the fire, as you could feel his claws even through your clothes. To make matters worse, you quickly realized that getting away was impossible with how tight his tail was coiled around your thigh. 

All your worries disappeared however as a very familiar voice could be heard from somewhere on the floor underneath. Rolan definitely heard it too as he looked in its direction with a mixture of dread and annoyance. 

You couldn’t discern entirely what Lia was saying, but the words “Rolan” and “Lorroakan” were definitely part of it.

You looked at Rolan with an unequivocal expression.

“We should go to them… and reassure them that you’re not dead or something.”

The new master of the tower threw his hands up in surrender, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

“Fine, fine!”

“Also, we’re going to fall to our deaths in the stairs if you don’t keep your tail to yourself, Mister…”

Rolan dashed off in the direction of the stairs, grumbling about siblings and lack of privacy, not without grabbing your hand in passing.